


Marked

by GoldenGooseFreckles



Series: Marked [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Michael, Alpha Dean, Alpha Gabriel, Alpha Michael, Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Hurt Castiel, Induced heats, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Nightmares, Omega Castiel, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Torture, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 71,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5982177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenGooseFreckles/pseuds/GoldenGooseFreckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every omega must be mated by the end of their 20th year. Those that don't, end up sold or traded to neighboring clans. Hoping to avoid mating entirely Castiel finds himself  a few weeks away from turning 21 with options running thin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my newest project! Progress on this may be slow, as it's going to have to be written in between Feathers and Fur. That being said, I already have most of it planned out and ready to go, so updates *should* be regular, if a bit spaced out.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful kittenbot
> 
> Tags and warnings/rating will be updated as I go.

Life is never fair. Of course, neither is it unfair. It is completely impartial to be honest; although when it feels like just about everything has gone in the worst possible direction it can, then it would indeed seem as though life is very unfair. If you just so happen to be an omega weeks away from turning 21 the night before the Grand Clan meeting and subsequent Claiming the week after, then life can seem so unfair as to have an unnatural vendetta against you. Every omega is given until the end of their 20th year to find a mate on their own, and should they fail to find one, their family must find one for them. The excuse is generally given that it is to protect them from the rogue clans that wander in between clan territories, but stories of anyone actually being taken by force are so few and far between as to be mistaken for mere rumor to most. No, generally most omegas are traded between clans as tokens of favor and alliance, usually in an effort to keep the peace between the clans and ensure their continued survival in a world that either has no knowledge of them or a long ingrained fear and urge to hunt and kill them.

Had anyone else been in Castiel’s spot, they probably wouldn’t be too keen to leave their bed, either. Not when there was an extremely good chance he would never see it, nor his room or the house he grew up in, again. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew full well Michael had plans of sending him off to the MacLeods out east if no one chose to claim him this week. He would rather not be claimed by anybody, but running off on your own was just about guaranteed to get you killed, and his only other option was a rogue clan, though again, for an unmated omega, that was pretty close to a death sentence. No, Castiel had very little choice in this matter. Hope someone claims him this week or be sent off to Rowena and her pompous shit of an alpha for a son, Fergus. 

A knock on his door and a hushed voice on the other side of it dragged him out of the rather depressing spiral of thoughts and dashed any hope that everyone would just forget about him altogether and leave him behind. Nonetheless, Gabriel’s voice drifted through the door, begging him to hurry up and come downstairs with his bags before Michael decided to take matters into his own hands. Not willing to risk the wrath of his bullheaded and rather irrational older brother, Castiel finally relented and crawled out of bed, stripping his old clothes and tossing on something relatively fresh in record speed, grabbing his one bag of belongings and, with one last glance at the mostly bare room, opened his door and followed his brother downstairs to join the rest of his cairn members heading to the gathering.

Michael and Lucifer were waiting in the oversized and over-decorated front room with Naomi, one of Castiel’s more distant cousins and the third cairn member representing them at the gathering. Gabriel wished him a fond, albeit hasty, farewell and disappeared down the hall to the left, heading for the kitchen and hiding from the inevitable fireworks that resulted any time Michael and Lucifer were in a room together for more than five minutes. With little more than a nod towards Lucifer and a huff in Michael’s general direction, Castiel pushed past both of them and out the front door to toss his bag into an already over-packed ‘85 Jeep Cherokee. The wood paneling over aged and chipped blue paint had seen better years, and given that the car was a good decade older than he was, he was honestly surprised it held out as well as it did. It was only used for the rare occasions that anyone left clan territory, usually for the odd supply run or, once a year, for the clan gatherings. The year before it had been held in the Laffite territory down in Louisiana, and this year the Winchester clan had offered to host. Not that it made much of a difference, really. One place was as good as another as far as Castiel was concerned. He had been to every gathering since he had presented at twelve as Michael had seen fit to drag him each and every time, hoping someone would be tempted to claim him. 

Castiel really wasn’t sure what had happened to Michael to have turned him from the once caring older brother to the domineering, uncaring creature he was now, not that any member of the Novak clan was ever known for their exemplary treatment of omegas. Perhaps it was losing so many to the illness that had swept through years ago, killing their parents and one of their brothers along with half of the rest of the cairn. Castiel had been young at the time, maybe only about four or so, but he remembered Gabriel crawling into his bed late one night, curling into his brother and crying for hours, murmuring through the tears that everything was going to be okay if they just stuck together. Ever since then, Michael had been distant at best, outright aggressive at worst, fighting with anyone who tried to speak to him.

When Lucifer came around, things only got worse. Michael had been too young to lead the cairn when their parents had died, leaving everything to the care of their uncle until he was old enough. But when their uncle had mated an omega from the Pellegrino clan, Michael grew angry. When Lilith was born, he grew distant and unpredictable. Fearing that his uncle would choose to hand everything over to his daughter rather than Michael, he did everything in his power to try and ensure his rightful place. When their uncle finally did pass away, the inevitable fight for dominance started. As far as Lucifer was concerned, his mate had been their leader when he died, meaning that the responsibility should pass to him in turn, feeling that not only was Michael incapable of leading their cairn, he had no more claim to it than anyone else. No one was sure if it was the fact that Lucifer was technically an outsider or if it was because of his status as an omega that enraged Michael more, but no one was willing to side with either one on the issue, leaving them to sort it out for themselves. Over the last few years they had managed to come to some kind of a truce, but the threat of a violent struggle for control still plagued them.

As a result, Castiel, the only omega born to the Novaks for well over a generation, wasn’t exactly his brother’s favorite. Still, he would take Michael’s silent disdain over his outright aggression. Twice Castiel tried to get out of going to the gathering, twice he learned the hard way about how Michael ensured compliance, and he still bore the scars from it. After that, he found it easier to keep quiet and go along with whatever his brother had planned for him, spending the rest of what little free time he had with Gabriel and, when she wasn’t busy, Pamela, his cairn’s healer. Even before he had presented, Pamela was one of the only people he was comfortable enough with to be around for any length of time outside of Gabriel. It wasn’t that he actively hated everyone else, he simply didn’t want to be around them. Most of his siblings were significantly older than him and therefore always busy with something else, and the younger twins, Hael and Anna, were far too outgoing and energetic for him. Pamela, while overly flirty and a bit too unconcerned with personal space, was always willing to listen and more than willing to give advice. Had he thought about it, he would have made time to stop by before leaving.

A hand smacking the metal next to his head startled him out of his reverie, making him realize he’d been standing at the back of the Jeep for some time. As if she had been summoned, the object of his musings stood in front of him, a smirk on her face and a hand on her hip. Pamela’s sunglasses glinted in the late morning light, forcing him to squint and glance away for a moment. The subtle scent of amusement curled around him, teasing him out of his depressive slump and coaxing a small smile out of him. He knew he was the only one who could ever scent it, but Pamela also knew full well that he could and she had often used it against him, calming him with her scent many times when he was a kid. 

“Stare at it much harder and you just might light it on fire. Doubt it would do you any good though. We’ve got a couple more out back and you know it.” Pamela grinned at him as she took the sunglasses off, her white eyes glinting mischievously. “Now come on, let’s go grab something to eat before we head out.”

“You’re coming too?”

“Damn straight I am, and I’d like to see your asshole of a brother try to get me to stay home. It’s gonna be a good one this year, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Pamela’s insistence on going unnerved Castiel to no end, but rather than voice it, he simply chose to follow her the short distance down the dirt path to the main hall, the primary gathering point for meetings and those who didn’t want to or didn’t have time to cook for themselves. Barely more than a glorified cafeteria, it was just barely big enough to fit the roughly 30 some member of the Novak cairn. A few rooms in the back were offered for those traveling between territories, but visitors were few and far between, and the rooms went unused for the most part. There was almost always something to eat at all hours though, most people keeping odd hours and almost never eating at the same time.

With a jolt Castiel realized he would probably never get to see this place again, and while it didn’t hold any particularly great memories for him, he still found that he would miss the quiet atmosphere of the place. The food was thoroughly average, though a good deal better than what he usually got at home, given that Michael often restricted what he could and couldn’t eat in an effort to keep him ‘attractive and healthy enough to find a mate’, leading him to sneak out and pig out on whatever Hannah and her sister had ready at the time. 

This morning was a bit sparse in pickings, only a bit of bacon left with some assorted fruit and a few vegetarian omelettes, since a surprising number of avian shifters tended to abstain from meat, Castiel very much not included. Rather, he’d be content on a mostly meat diet, finding most fruit to be too sweet and most vegetables to be largely unpalatable. According to Pamela it was mostly because of his ancestral species, in the sense that his parents were raptor types, meaning that he was, too. All he really knew was that he could see and hear better than anyone else in his family, and as far as he was aware, he was the only one with a sensitive enough nose to pick up baser emotions from those near him. 

They ate in companionable silence, the upcoming week weighing heavily on Castiel’s mind. If he thought he could get away with it he would have left already, but the only safety was within a clan, and most wouldn’t hesitate to send him right back to Michael. The most he could hope for was someone not completely awful claiming him before the week was out. He’d never really shown an interest in anybody, far too preoccupied with avoiding anyone and everyone as best he could. At one point he had a passing thought on one of the Winchester brothers, but as far as he was aware, one was mated, one may as well be and the youngest was as yet unpresented. Definitely no point in working his hopes up this year.

Pamela kept shooting him odd glances here and there, curiosity tinged with concern drifting off of her periodically. Given her blindness, it may have perturbed anyone else, but Castiel was well used to her preternatural ability to creep people out and he could ignore her unseeing glances with ease. She only side-eyed him when she thought he was overreacting to something, usually to do with his gender and resultant deadline. Not once had she ever fed into his fears, instead reassuring him that things would work out just fine; all he had to do was be patient and not do something irrational. She’d been repeating the same thing since he had presented, and while he hadn’t gotten any better at believing it, he had gotten better at deflecting it. Every time she brought up his marks he found a reason to dismiss them. Far as he was concerned, they were little more than fancy tattoos that he hadn’t had a choice in getting. He supposed he was lucky that there were only three of them, especially when he considered that Lucifer’s pack simply branded their omegas instead of dealing with a healer, but he still couldn’t find a reason to believe any of their meanings were true.

Of his three marks, the Novak cairn’s symbol of two folded wings overlapped by the symbol of an omega was the only one that wasn’t supposed to be a predictor of his future. It was simply a mark designed to let everyone know where he came from and what he was, as if he needed more reminding that he wasn’t quite up to par with the other members of his cairn. The other two however were supposed to be symbols of future events. According to Pamela, the wolf and the raptor was supposed to represent who and what his future mate was supposed to be. Castiel was pretty sure none of the MacLeods were wolves, but there was likely to be at least one. There always was.

The other marking was the one he was the most skeptical of. A ring of dots and teardrops extended in a ring around his belly button, some close together, some far apart. It was supposed to eventually form a stretched web of some sort, providing protection during pregnancy. He really didn’t see it helping much should he ever have the misfortune of winding up pregnant, but hey. At least it was more passable as pure decoration. Not that anyone was ever supposed to see it, save his mate and the healer of whichever clan he wound up in. He’d learned that lesson the hard way when he forgot to put a shirt on before coming downstairs some time after presenting. The scar for that misstep was sitting just below his right shoulder blade if Gabriel was to be believed. Castiel had long since stopped trying to count them.

“You keep staring off into space like that and you’re eventually gonna catch someone on fire. I swear, if we let you, you’d spend all day staring off into the distance and getting lost in your own head. Come on, Cassie, we’ve got to leave in a few minutes. I promise, you can daydream about running away with Gabriel the whole ride.” Pamela dragged his attention back to her again, reminding him that they really did only have a few minutes before they had to leave for Winchester lands. As much as he didn’t really want to leave, he would be lying if he said there wasn’t a small part of him that was a bit happy at leaving Michael and the others behind. He’d miss Gabriel and Pamela, but it couldn’t be helped and it didn’t do to dwell on it.

A second Jeep had been dragged out of storage and was idling just in front of the first one. This one was a solid dark green, no cheap and tacky wood paneling to be seen on it. It was still beat to hell and back though, with more chips and scratches in the paint than even the blue and wood monstrosity. Michael and Lucifer were standing by the back hatch, arguing over who got which seat. Naomi was already settled into the back seat, pointedly ignoring the two as they bickered with a look that managed to perfectly balance boredom and annoyance without looking interested in the least. Gabriel stood by the blue beast, doing his level best to pretend that the rest of his family didn’t exist, without much luck. Three other cairn members milled about the blue Jeep as well, a pair of young alphas whose names he never remembered and a very young omega he thought was named Samandriel, all with varying levels of discomfort written on their faces.

The second Michael caught sight of Castiel, his visibly dark mood soured further, causing the omega to flinch. Michael’s foul moods generally didn’t bode well for him, and given the circumstances, Castiel doubted this time would end up any different.

“You-you’re riding in the back with them. Pamela, you’re riding with us. I have some things we need to discuss.” Not one to turn down an opportunity to get the fuck away from his older brother without a fight, Castiel bolted for the paneled monstrosity, flinging the back door open and burrowing himself inside, eyes fixed pointedly out the window as he worked himself into as tiny a space as possible in the cramped vehicle. 

***

The four hour drive to the Winchester clan’s lands was nothing short of exhausting, the two alphas bickering over who should have gotten shotgun while Gabriel threatened to gag both of them and tie them to the roof rack. Open grasslands gradually gave way to thick pine forests, the dirt road they were on gradually eroding into a well hidden track running through the ancient hills. The forest gave way to a massive clearing littered with small log houses surrounding a surprisingly large two story central house. Fading white paint was offset by black shutters and a dark green wraparound porch, a stark contrast to the surrounding domiciles. Several vehicles of varying age and condition were gathered around the back of the house while a large group of shifters from all across the country milled about the front of the house.

The two alphas flew out of the Jeep the second it came to a stop, the three remaining occupants more than willing to take their time. Neither Castiel nor the omega next to him were in any hurry to get to know anyone here, and Gabriel was only here as a chaperone. As an alpha he had no obligations to find a mate, and he had yet to participate in the Claiming, citing a need to piss Michael off at every possible occasion. 

Of course, just thinking about his brother managed to successfully summon him as it generally seemed to do, and if it was possible, his mood was even worse. As soon as he noticed Michael making directly for him, Castiel immediately dropped his gaze, staring nervously at an odd shaped rock near his feet.

“You are to be accompanied by Gabriel at all times. Under no circumstances are you to go near the Winchesters. You will not speak to them, you will not allow yourself to remain in their company. That includes that stepson of theirs. Gabriel will accompany you for the entirety of the Claiming. Am I understood?” Castiel nodded numbly, too anxious to smart off about how that had been his intention towards everyone anyway, figuring he really didn’t need to goad Michael on. At his acknowledgement, Michael stormed off with Naomi following closely behind him, leaving Lucifer to trudge along behind them at a fair distance, glaring holes into the back of Michael’s head. Pamela appeared from the sea of cars last, a worried look on her face as she quickly scanned Castiel for any injuries.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, not this time. Why? Did i do something to piss him off?”

“No, I did. He mentioned selling you to the MacLeods outright and wasn’t exactly fond of my opinion on the subject. I’m sorry hon, but I had to tell him who you’re meant for. I can’t let you end up with Rowena’s bastard. I can’t tell you why, but I can tell you that you need to do everything you can to avoid it. I mean it. Everything. You cannot go to the MacLeods.”

It was definitely shaping up to be the worst week of his short, miserable existence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely kittenbot

The night had gone just about as Castiel had expected, and the next day was going much the same as well. The Novaks set up their small ring of tents nearest to the treeline, a good distance away from everyone else. Few wandered near their spot, and fewer still lingered for long, usually just offering curt greetings before passing on to someone a bit more hospitable. Castiel had spent the night in the tent closest to the trees, sharing with Gabriel as Michael took the tent to his right, Lucifer the left with Pamela and the omega and the pair of alphas occupying the tents directly opposite them. Pamela had not been allowed near his tent, nor anyone but Gabriel and Michael, really. Castiel had to wonder why Michael was reacting so badly to Pamela’s ideas. Every other year and he had all but shoved Castiel out of their camp space to mingle with everyone else, desperate to be rid of him with little concern as to who. He had a sneaking suspicion that he may have been sold already, but even Michael wouldn’t dare sell an unclaimed omega before the time limit was up. 

Gabriel was unusually silent for most of the night and the morning, distancing himself as best he could while still technically chaperoning his little brother. Generally, silence from the otherwise obnoxious alpha generally didn’t mean anything good, and given current circumstances, the odds that it involved Castiel were pretty high. His fears were confirmed when Gabriel finally confronted him a little before noon, just after Michael, Lucifer and Naomi left for the Grand Clan Meeting. He offered to run off with Castiel, get him away from here and somewhere safe. When asked where that would be, however, he had nothing, and that was answer enough. He was tempted, honestly he was. It had been something on his mind for years now, running away with the only family he had that he could muster up enough fondness for to bear being in his company. Sadly, even with Gabriel offering to help him, he couldn’t see any way for that path to end any better than the one he was on now. Gabriel had agreed with him, admitting that it was more wishful thinking than anything he had really planned on working. 

The afternoon was absolutely the worst, the clearing blanketed with a quiet hum while the delegates from each clan met. Evening would mark the beginning of the week long Claiming, five days of unmated alphas and omegas intent on finding a mate. Omegas looking to participate were registered and listed in an old binder to prevent an omega from being claimed if they weren’t actually participating. Gabriel had already taken Castiel to be registered as soon as they had gotten up that morning. After that, he had yet again been confined to the area immediately surrounding their tents, barred from exploring further until Michael had returned. Members of other clans were getting started on the night’s festivities early, building large fire pits to be lit later and bringing out coolers full of home brewed beer. The usual feeling of dread Castiel felt on the eve of Claiming started to creep up at the familiar sight. Before, he’d been considered too young to drink, but this year he was over 20 and officially old enough, and if Michael thought he had anything to say about it he was batshit crazy. This was officially his last week of absolute freedom, and he would be doing as he pleased. The sight of the temporary stage being set up on the opposite end of the clearing appeared to be all that was needed to compel him to get a head start on his plans to get drunk enough to make this crap fest tolerable.

The central fire was lit well before the meeting had ended, about an hour before sunset. A dozen smaller ones were scattered around and subsequently lit as well. Beers were passed around and cracked open, Castiel snagging one the second he was able before retreating to one of the fires farthest from the center, chugging the strong brew as quickly as possible with Gabriel’s encouragement. Michael and Lucifer arrived not long after the fires were lit, Michael simply glaring at him and warning him to stay away from the Winchesters before stalking off to his tent with Naomi in tow, leaving Lucifer to collect a few more beers for them and pass them around before joining the two brothers in their quest for inebriation. Had he not been quite so successful so quickly, he would have noticed Pamela watching him from a distance before disappearing.

Several hours into the start of the celebrations and well after things had started tilting a bit at the edges, Michael reappeared with a dolled up older Scottish redhead, a short and stocky little alpha in tow behind her. He introduced them to the trio as Rowena and her son Crowley, making Castiel cringe and down the rest of the beer in his hand, searching clumsily for another and starting a bit when Gabriel shoved another bottle in his face. He could smell the disdain rolling off of the mouthy little redhead, cutting sharply through the thick blanket of alcohol and arousal that permeated the clearing. Her son was hardly better, the sharp tang of his obvious interest souring in Castiel’s nose. Everything about the pair set him on edge, and the alcohol invading his system deadened his already shaky sense of inhibition.

“Castiel, why don’t you get to know Fergus a little better? I’m sure you two could find something of common interest to talk about.” Michael’s voice had an extra edge of annoyance to it, tempting Castiel far too much to pass up.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d really rather not. Me and this bench here have a good thing going, and I’d rather not interrupt that for what I’m sure would be an altogether droll experience.”

Gabriel broke out into a fit of giggles next to him as Michael’s eyes grew wide at the lack of respect before narrowing in aggravation.

“I think it would be wise of you to listen, Castiel. You only have a few weeks left before you have no choices left. Think wisely before you speak.”

“I’d call it thinking wisely. I’d have more fun with a random asshole over there than I would spending any amount of time in his company. If it turns out that this is what I’m destined for, then you’ll excuse me while I spend every last second I have as far away from Fergus as possible.” 

With that Castiel stood, albeit unsteadily, and stalked off, Gabriel and Lucifer quick to follow as peals of laughter sounded behind him. He picked his way carefully to another fire close to the edges of the clearing, snagging a few beers from the cooler sitting next to it before settling on the split log bench next to Gabriel, Lucifer taking up residence on a small rock to their left.

“We’ll probably all regret that in the morning, but honestly? It’s about time you stood up to Michael, Cassie. At the very least, you’ve only got a few weeks left to deal with him anyway.”

With that the trio fell silent, drinking themselves into a pleasant stupor and generally trying to ignore the crowds around them. Castiel didn’t notice when Gabriel left, nor did he notice him meeting up with Pamela and heading off away from the throngs of people. He did, however, notice that he was beyond exhausted, enlisting an equally sleepy and subdued Lucifer to help him pick his way back to their camp site. Tomorrow would be the start of the Claiming, and it was usually the worst.

***

 

The first day of Claiming was always the same. All omegas registered were paraded across the stage fully clothed, their name, age and clan announced as they went. Once they were presented, they were let loose to mingle with the gathered alphas, pairing off for a bit before breaking away and pairing off with someone else, until they found someone they like. Most wouldn’t be claimed until the last few days of the festivities in an effort to get to know as many potential partners as possible. This year there were roughly 70 omegas registered, with nearly twice as many alphas interested in participating. Several would only participate the first night or two, choosing to wait another year or not at all if they really wanted. Mated pairs were mixed in with the group in an effort to prevent any mishaps, though incidents were few and far between.

Castiel spent the first day much in the same way he had spent the previous evening, picking out a spot as close to the edge as possible, Gabriel never too far from him and beer even closer. Rarely had anyone approached him in past years, and this year was shaping up to be no different. Only two alphas sought him out, a gruff looking member of the Lafitte clan named Benny and a scrawny little thing from the Harvelles named Garth. Castiel found himself far more interested in Benny than Garth, but while they were both courteous and friendly, neither stuck around for too long, both sticking around just long enough for a drink before wandering off to the next omega.

When the evening grew late and Castiel had managed to spend almost the entire day with just Gabriel and the odd alpha for company, the relief of another day unmated slowly gave way to a nagging sense of dread of what was to come at the end of the week.

Days two and three passed in much the same way, save for Castiel choosing to wander between fire pits with Gabriel hot on his heels, never staying in one place, just wandering to take in the sights. This time nobody stopped him, no one spoke to him, no one even so much as glanced in his direction for more than a moment before becoming distracted by something else. Even when Gabriel disappeared on him and left him alone for a few hours, nobody approached. By the time he managed to fall asleep on the third night, he had convinced himself that he wasn’t going to be claimed this year either.

The fourth day was the next to last day, and the crowd had thinned considerably. Less than ten omegas remained unclaimed, and the number of interested alphas had dropped to less than 30. It had become clear that Gabriel intended to see him claimed this year, as he disappeared as soon as he could, only reappearing here and there to make sure Castiel was still alive. Even so, attention was focused on the other nine omegas, centered almost entirely around the main fire. Castiel chose a spot not too far from it, intending on drinking away the stinging sense of rejection. Again, he suspected Michael may have had something to do with it, but the thought that Michael would do anything just to get rid of him had him dismissing the idea.

Gabriel had just wandered off for the umpteenth time when Castiel sensed someone coming up behind him. Sharp citrus tang laced with curiosity and interest tickled at his nose. He whirled around only to come face to face with green eyes and a subtle smirk, short, light hair messily combed off to one side. Even if he hadn’t harbored a tiny bit of a crush on the man for years, Castiel would have been instantly enamored with the alpha in front of him. Dean was just as impressive now as he had been when Castiel had first seen him the last time the Winchesters had hosted the clans meeting around five years ago. 

Suddenly aware of his staring, Castiel bolted for a drink from the cooler behind him, grabbing two and passing one to Dean as he straightened back up, a blush slowly creeping up the back of his neck.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas, wasn’t it?” Dean seemed a bit taken aback that Castiel knew his name, though apparently not surprised enough to have forgotten his. At his nod, Dean continued, taking a seat on the bench and encouraging him to sit with him. “If you’re worried about Michael, I can promise you he’s very busy on the other side of the clearing. He won’t be interrupting us, I promise.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not. Adam can be quite the handful when he wants to,” Dean chuckled as he took a drink, glancing towards one of the cabins before focusing on Castiel. “Truth be told, I was surprised to see you still here. I was sure you would have been claimed years ago, and I could never get an answer any time I tried to find out. And when I saw you walk across that stage, I knew I had to try to find you again. Every time I tried though, Michael or Naomi managed to find a way to keep me away.”

“Wait, what? Why would they be doing that?”

“I don’t know, I just know that they weren’t letting me anywhere near you.” Dean glanced up at something for a moment before standing up quickly, pulling Castiel to his feet with him. “I gotta run, Michael’s coming back. Listen to me. There’s a cabin just off in the woods a ways north from here. If you’re interested in...in giving me a shot, meet me there as soon as you can tomorrow.”

“I-I think I will. As soon as I can get away from Gabriel. I’m sure he won’t mind. I can’t make any promises, but—I think I’d like to try.”

***

The last day of claiming saw only Castiel and a small omega from the Lafitte clan remaining. Gabriel didn’t leave Castiel alone for a second with Michael hovering at the edge of the small group. Most of the alphas from yesterday were still here, gathered around the Lafitte omega with a few wandering off here and there and chatting amicably with some of the newly mated couples wandering around. It became apparent quickly that Castiel wasn’t going to be able to ditch Gabriel any time soon, not with both of them being watched so carefully.

The sound of shouts and growls from the small crowd of alphas isn’t surprising, though it is a bit startling. There was usually at least one fight every year, and Castiel knew for a fact that bets were placed on them every year, too. The crowd gathered, some to watch, some to help, and some just because it seemed the thing to do, as one generally does any time a crowd gathers around something. Castiel lost sight of Gabriel in the rush of people, taking the advantage and ducking past everyone to make a break for the tree line. He was caught behind one of the cabins by Pamela, who shoved a bottle into his hands along with a small, sealed pouch. Adrenaline and nervousness rolled off of her in waves.

“Head for the trees, hon. Drink that first. You’ll understand when you get there.” Pamela’s cryptic message was ended with a peck to his cheek as she patted the pouch. “Don’t lose that. You’ll need it. Good luck.” With that she was off, walking quickly towards the commotion and disappearing into the crowd.

With a sigh, Castiel popped the lid on the bottle, downing the contents as quickly as he could. Sure he was alone, he took off for the trees, only glancing back long enough to make sure nobody noticed he had left. Pamela was acting strange, even for her, but he really didn’t have time to dwell. He took off to the north, following the faint scent of smoke.

By the time he made it to the cabin, the noise of the clearing was completely silenced. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. Small curls of smoke rose out of the chimney almost lazily, soft golden light visible from beneath the door. No windows and a fast setting sun made it all the brighter, and he made his way toward it slowly. His face and neck felt flushed, and he couldn’t remember the last time a short hike had left him feeling so dizzy. He felt himself startle at the door swinging open, but it took his brain a second or two to catch up to current events. Dean ran the last few steps to him, the scent of excitement and joy quickly being replaced by concern. He threw his arms around Castiel, holding him tightly as he rested his forehead on Dean’s shoulder.

“Cas? You ok?”

“I’m fine...I think. I don’t—I’m not sure. I don’t feel too great, and I’m not entirely sure it’s all due to nerves.”

Dean paused, lowering his head slightly to sniff at Castiel’s neck. His sense of smell might have been far duller than Castiel’s, but he could still pick out a change in scent to some degree.

“Um, Cas? When is your heat due?”

“Not for another month or so, why?” It was far too early to be cycling already. Avian shifters usually cycled around the beginning of summer, coming into heat once a month for six months, sometimes less if winter hit too harshly. Most shifters cycled according to their ancestors, wolves the only type that had a year round season, cycling every month or so.

All too slowly it clicked. The flushed skin, the dizziness, the slowly building urge to submit to the alpha wrapped tightly around him. Pulling away from Dean just far enough to open the pouch at his hip, Castiel was just a bit more than pissed to see a note from Pamela on top of a couple of bottles of water and a few packs of condoms.

Castiel,  
I sincerely hope you made it to Dean before your heat kicked in. If so, congratulations! I told you not to worry and I meant it. You’re meant for Dean. He’s meant for you.

I know you’re going to be furious with me, and I wanted you to know I truly am sorry. Believe me when I say you’ll see why in the end. Just remember—everything will work out. Just have faith.

~Pam

Castiel dropped the note back into the bag numbly, pressing himself against Dean on instinct as he tried to sort out what he was feeling. One thing he knew for certain was that the longer he waited, the fewer options he really had, and from the looks of it, they had just run out altogether.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did change the warnings and added a couple of tags thanks to this chapter. The rating ought to go up in the next chapter instead. *wink* 
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful kittenbot

Castiel breathed in the sharp scent Dean radiated, concern and possessiveness and...nerves? What the hell did he have to be nervous for? He wasn’t the one drugged into an early heat, and he certainly wasn’t the one that either let themselves be claimed here and now or wait a day and let a far less than acceptable alpha do it. He’d pushed it to this point, every time he refused a mate. Of course, Pamela had also never encouraged him to even consider it until this year, always quite happy to encourage him to wait, to push it off another year. He never understood why, but looking back, if this was what she had meant, he really wished she had just told him. He’d have gone after Dean a long time ago, rather than waiting for the last minute. It certainly would have been more pleasant than feeling like he was going to die. Induced heats were never pleasant, always a bit lacking on the hormones and a bit heavy on the physical aspects. Cramps and nausea were cranked up while the hormones usually responsible for making the whole ordeal bearable were slow to respond, if they ever did at all. The closer you were to your natural cycle, the easier it was. This far off, all it did was hurt. At the very least, his mind was clear, at least enough so to be coherent. The need to submit was still an incessant itch under his skin.

Dean’s grip on Castiel tightened as his scent grew stronger, the nervousness increasing with it. Castiel flinched when he felt Dean’s breath on his neck, though truth be told it was less anxiety and more anticipation, if the way he bared his neck was any indication. If he was going to be honest, he knew as soon as he set out for the cabin that he wouldn’t be coming back down alone, though with how late it was getting, they’d have to get a move on. He buried his face in Dean’s shoulder, breathing deep enough to relax him a bit before pulling back just enough to look Dean in the face. Glittering green eyes met his, full of the concern Castiel could still clearly scent.

“Cas, if you don’t want to do this—”

“We need to get back before sundown, but..” he interrupted, mustering every bit of courage he had left to him. “I refuse to go back unclaimed. I’ve spent years avoiding it, trying everything I could to get out of it. If it has to happen, I’m grateful it’s with you.”

“Shit, I forgot about the closing ceremonies. I’m supposed to lead them, thanks to my dad deciding it would be ‘good’ for me to take an active role this year.” Dean paused to glance down the hill, a look of contemplation working its way across his features. With a shake of his head, he returned his attention to the omega still clinging tightly to him. “I don’t think we have time for anything but the bite, either.You sure you’re gonna be okay for this?”

Castiel nodded, not entirely sure about it, but completely unwilling to do anything else. It couldn’t be much worse than the early heat, and he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to keep that one hidden. His scent wasn’t very strong thanks to the lack of responding hormones, and he was sure he could pass off the other symptoms as post-mating if he tried hard enough. Dean let him go just long enough to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing his shoulders. The feel of Dean slowly tracing the wolf and bird marking made him suck in a sharp breath. He’d completely forgotten about them. Dean was a wolf, he knew that much, and the fleeting thought that Pamela might have been right crossed his mind. He still had more than a few choice words for her when he saw her again, though. 

Dean didn’t waste much time admiring Castiel’s ink before drawing him back in, nose firmly pressing into the dip between shoulder and neck while his hands rubbed small soothing circles into Castiel’s shoulders. “It’s gonna hurt,” he muttered into Castiel’s shoulder, teeth grazing the skin in a gentle warning. Castiel barely noticed, too lost in the sudden warm expanse of skin pressed against him and the warm breath skating across the back of his neck. It set him on fire, his heat ramping up a few notches at the contact.

“I kn—” He barely had a second to respond before the sharp pain of teeth breaking his skin knocked the breath out of him in a harsh wheeze, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to breathe through the throbbing agony radiating out from his shoulder. Even in heat, without the buffer of being knotted, it hurt like hell. He shivered at the feeling of Dean’s lips on the mark, swallowing a whimper at the sting of the touch. 

“Really glad I only have to do that once,” he squeaked out, slowly relinquishing his grip on the alpha. He slowly pulled his shirt back up over his shoulders, wincing at the drag of the fabric on overly sensitive skin.

“If it hurts, you can just go shirtless. No one will mind and yo—” Dean was interrupted by Castiel jumping backwards, yanking the shirt on the rest of the way and buttoning it up as fast as he could. He was grateful Dean couldn’t scent emotions, the spike of fear noxious even to his own nose. He knew it shouldn’t matter, that technically he didn’t belong to his cairn anymore, but that didn’t stop the instantaneous reaction, even if he did manage to get himself together at the last second.

“No, I-I can’t. It isn’t—wasn’t allowed.” Castiel paused to take a breath, the citric tang of his mate softer, more subtle. At the look of worry directed at him, he swallowed and continued. “When Michael’s gone. Maybe then it will sink in.”

The worry never left Dean’s face, but he hid it well by walking back to his abandoned shirt, throwing it on as quickly as possible before getting right back up in Castiel’s face and pulling him in for a searing kiss. The metallic tang of blood still coated his lips, but as his heat flared, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He kissed Dean back with everything he had, hands sneaking up under his shirt to feel the warm expanse of skin beneath it. He barely suppressed a whine at the loss of contact when Dean pulled away again, chasing his lips for a moment before pulling back with a blush. Ignoring the pull in his shoulder for now, he buried his face in Dean’s shoulder with a small laugh. At Dean’s questioning glance, he just shook his head and made to drag Dean back down the hill to the clearing.

“It’s nothing, Dean. Just a lot happier than I thought I’d be with being mated. Now come on, we’re going to be late.”

***

The hike back was considerably shorter than Castiel remembered the walk up being, even with his heat in full swing. He did his level best to school his features and keep his back straight despite the cramps that constantly tried to make him fold in on himself. Dean was a constant presence at his side, one arm around his waist as they weaved their way through the throng of people to the stage. A large crowd had already gathered since the sun had already set. Castiel paused at the foot of the stage, planting another kiss on Dean as he went to climb the stairs.

“I’ll only be a few minutes, Cas. Then you and me are gonna climb right back up that hill and we’re not coming back down for a week. Castiel grinned at him and gave him another short, sweet kiss before shoving him in the direction of the stairs.

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean. I’ll be right here.”

Of course, not two minutes after Dean climbed the stage and started the closing speech of Claiming, Naomi managed to find him and drag him off backstage before he even had a chance to protest.

“Castiel, what is this? What have you done?” Naomi gestured at his shoulder frantically, the scent of fear and confusion invading his overly sharp senses and forcing him to reel back slightly in repulsion and nerves. Naomi upset was nearly as bad as Michael, and it wasn’t likely that anyone noticed her bringing him back here. Of course, there also wasn’t much she could do anymore, not now that he technically belonged to the Winchesters. “Please tell me that’s Crowley’s mark.”

“No.” Castiel couldn’t help the grimace at the thought of it being Crowley’s bite, reminding him again of just how lucky he got.

“Oh, Castiel…” Naomi looked heartbroken for a moment before she managed to school her features into something more neutral. “I must go inform Michael of this. Hope that he is not too upset by the news. I know he had his heart set on an alliance with the MacLeod’s.” With that she took off, leaving Castiel standing by himself behind the stage. He slowly made his way back to the stairs, mind too focused on what Michael might do for retribution to notice that Dean’s speech had ended and he was heading for Castiel at breakneck speed.

“Cas, you ok? You look pale.” Dean whirled him around to face him, looking Castiel up and down to make sure he was alright. “Your heat’s not bothering you, is it?”

“No, Dean. I’m fine. Let’s just get out of here as soon as we can.” Castiel kept glancing around, half expecting Michael to grab him and drag him off at any moment.

“Agreed. Let’s go.” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled him through the crowd, only slowing down when they were too thick to just plow through anymore. Many in the crowd shouted their congratulations, more than half freshly mated pairs with blissed out looks on their face. It made Castiel smile and relax a bit. Dean wouldn’t let anything happen to him, he was sure of it.

Someone calling his name frantically from somewhere behind him made both of them pause in their mission to hit the treeline as fast as possible. Lucifer was weaving his way through the crowds as quickly as he could manage, yelling for the pair to wait for him. By the time he had caught up with them he was out of breath and looked and smelled more than a little irritated.

“Castiel, Michael wishes to speak to you alone.” At the glare from Dean, he quickly amended the statement. “Something about seeing you one last time before we leave tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving already? We normally stay—stayed—a few days after. I was hoping to speak to Pamela before you left.”

“Don’t ask me why, Michael just said we had to leave as soon as possible. He said something came up that he had to take care of at home. First I’ve heard of it but you know he’d rather die than tell me anything.” Lucifer’s gaze grew a little dark at that before he managed to shake it off, a small smile playing on his face. “Head on up to your little cabin in the woods, Dean. I’ll have your mate back in no time at all.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but with a subtle shake of Castiel’s head, he shut his mouth into a tight line, nodding to Lucifer before turning to Castiel. “I’ll be up waiting for you. Don’t take too long, okay? Thirty minutes at the most.”

Lucifer nodded to Dean before taking Castiel’s hand in his, leading him back through the crowd of people as fast as he could, taking care not to leave Castiel behind. For once Castiel couldn’t get a read on his emotions, too much olfactory interference from the crowd to pinpoint what was his and what wasn’t. He had a sneaking suspicion that the underlying sense of guilt was probably his, and Castiel had a pretty good idea as to why.

His fears were confirmed when they finally made it to the Novak camp site. Naomi stood off to one side of Michael, the pity in her eyes plain to see. Michael himself looked about ready to murder someone, and Castiel felt the usual dread shoot straight down his spine when that glare was directed at him. He immediately dropped his gaze to the ground, a slight tremor running through him at the usual anxiety that plagued him every time Michael was angry. Everything was heightened in his heat, from the dull throb in his shoulder to the acrid, bitter scent of Michael’s rage. 

“So it is true then. I trusted you to do the one thing I asked, and not only did you disobey, you let one of them claim you. I’m extremely disappointed in you, Castiel. I trusted you. I thought I raised you better than that.” Michael paused in his tirade to glance at Naomi, who nodded to him and stalked away into their tent. “Kneel. You know the punishment for disobedience.”

Every instinct Castiel had was at war with each other. Self preservation demanded he bolt, to run to his alpha for protection while his submissive instincts, heightened by his heat won. He slowly sank to his knees, head bowed and eyes screwed shut as he fought to overcome his own instincts, fear winning out in the end. He was barely aware of Naomi returning, handing something to Michael before the both of them walked over to Castiel’s side. He was dimly aware of Naomi bending down to strip him of his shirt, too intent on being anywhere but here. When she finally released his arms, he dug his nails into his thighs tightly, desperately trying to think of anything to distract him from Michael’s ire. For a brief moment, his thoughts landed on Dean, the bite on his shoulder throbbing in time with his pulse. For that brief moment, the urge to run to his mate was finally stronger than the need to submit and he moved forward to stand only a moment too late as he felt the short whip come down just below his ribs, harder than he’d ever felt Michael swing at him. It knocked the breath out of him as he lunged forward, landing in the dirt elbow first as he struggled to make it away from Michael.

The second blow had barely made contact right over the first mark before Michael was knocked off his feet with a grunt by a blur that could only be Gabriel. Castiel had but a second to take in what was going on before he was being picked up by Pamela, who immediately ran a hand down his back, taking in the two fresh welts. When she was satisfied that there was no lasting damage, she took Castiel by the hand and began to lead him away, back towards the cabin and back to his mate. The last thing he heard from his former cairn’s camp site was a muddled growl about already having sold something, but Pamela’s insistent pace ensured he never caught more than that.

Even with his head pounding and his side and shoulder throbbing in time with each other, he still remembered that he had some serious business to discuss with the healer. He didn’t care what her plans were, or why she thought it would be ok. What he did care about was that he was in heat a month early and it had damn near caused him to submit completely to Michael.

“Why did you do it?” His voice was quiet, rough with emotion. The whole day had been one crapfest after another, with only the fact that he would be returning to Dean and not Michael to comfort him.

“You know I can’t tell you, Cassie. There is such a thing as knowing too much about one’s future. What I can tell you is that what’s going to happen must happen, and if I hadn’t given you that nudge, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. You wouldn’t have survived that. None of us would.”

He had nothing to say in response to that, so they walked along in tense silence for the rest of the short hike. The relief Castiel felt at the sight of the cabin again was nothing short of euphoria, and despite the pain in his side and shoulders, he bolted the rest of the distance to the door, giving a short nod to Pamela before opening it and disappearing inside.

He was immediately tackled by six feet of worried alpha, running his hands all up and down Castiel’s bare torso. Dean paused in his ministrations when his fingers traced over the welts, the stench of anger permeating the air and overtaking the joy and contentment that had previously been the dominant scents.

“Did Michael do this?” Dean’s voiced trembled with barely contained rage. “Is this the reason he wanted to see you?”

Castiel nodded mutely, relaxing under the scent of his alpha despite the anger that tainted the air. He gently pushed Dean back towards the single bed at the other end of the cottage, the day’s events finally catching up to him.

“Don’t wanna talk about it yet. Just wanna sleep.” His thoughts were slipping from him as his alpha stripped him down to just his underwear before shedding his own clothes and crawling into the bed behind Castiel. The omega immediately curled into Dean, breathing deep the softly spiced scent as Dean finally calmed down to wrap himself around Castiel, one hand stroking along his back while the other buried itself in his hair with soothing strokes. The last semi coherent thing he remembered muttering was something about begging Dean not to leave him by himself again before the darkness finally, blissfully took him under.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again beta'd by the wonderful kittenbot

Castiel was slow to wake, dimly aware of a familiar sharp pain in his abdomen. He buried his face into the solid wall of warmth next to him and tried to will his heat away so he could go back to sleep. A quick glance out the window on the far wall showed that it was still pitch black out. Much too early to be conscious. His mind whirled with the events of the last day now that he was fully awake and mostly lucid, and he still couldn’t understand why he had thought going to Michael without Dean would have been a good idea. He had been too trusting of Michael, too secure in his change of ownership and too damn lost in his heat to consider that Michael would have done something so brash.

At the very thought, a fresh wave of cramps was accompanied by a small, steady trickle of slick. He sucked in a breath involuntarily, tensing up and curling forward into his alpha while he waited for it to pass. He flinched when Dean shifted to roll over and face him, his hand coming up to rub circles into Castiel’s shoulders. He waited patiently for Castiel to relax, burying his nose in the soft dark hair of the omega as he slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes..

“Cas, you doing okay?” Dean muttered softly into Castiel’s hair, moving his hand from his arm to his back, careful to avoid the rough welts just below his ribs. At Castiel’s nod, he paused to turn his mate’s face to him, and Castiel found himself drowning in the glints of green barely illuminated by the dying embers in the fire pit. “Don’t lie to me, Cas. If you’re not okay, I want to know. Is it your heat?”

Castiel nodded again, flinching slightly as a small cramp pinched at his side. “Hurts a bit. The induced ones are always worse.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Several things, actually, though there’s really only one you could feasibly do.” Castiel paused to roll Dean over, straddling his hips as they went. He was surprised at his newfound, hormone driven bravery. “You could knot me like I wish we could have done yesterday.”

He pulled Cas down into a searing kiss, mindful of his back as his hands set to exploring the expanse of heated skin settled over him. Everywhere he touched, Castiel felt his nerves catch fire. Dean’s hands stroked down his sides to cup his ass, causing Castiel to gasp into the kiss, his hips twitching forward involuntarily. The reaction seemed to have spurred Dean’s alpha on as he immediately flipped them both, shoving Castiel’s legs wide and draping himself over the omega, every inch of skin possible touching his omega, covering him with his scent. He drew him back into another kiss as he slowly, teasingly, rolled his hips against him, pressing his hard length against Cas. 

Castiel’s boxers may not have been completely soaked when he woke up, small miracle that it was, but at the rate Dean was going, they were quickly gluing themselves everywhere they didn’t need to be glued. He wiggled out of them desperately, slick starting to flow freely now that the heat-inducing drug had finished kicking in. Dean paused in his mission to cover every inch of his neck and shoulders, scenting the air with a feral look in his eyes at the fresh rush of slick. Good. Castiel wasn’t looking for sweet and easy, even if he was technically still a virgin. He leaned up and nipped at Dean’s neck, earning himself a low growl as Dean literally pinned him to the bed, wrists held above his head while Dean sucked a fresh mark into the skin just above his claiming bite. His heat flared at the touch, almost to its peak. Castiel whined in response, begging desperately for what he really needed.

“Please Dean—I don't...I don't want to take it slow. I need you. Please.” Castiel had never begged for anything in his life, but if he was going to be honest with himself, he couldn't have found it in himself to be embarrassed if he tried. Instead, he gave himself over completely to the hormones finally flooding his system, spurred on by the careful ministrations of a willing alpha. He writhed beneath Dean, desperate to feel anything but the burning emptiness that currently consumed him. The longer Dean teased him with barely there touches that were only sort of heading in the direction he wanted, the more it ached and the more he begged.

Without warning, Dean flipped him almost violently, encouraging him to spread his knees as far as possible before pulling his cheeks apart and pressing his tongue to the slick soaked, quivering muscle bared before him. Castiel could only let out a shaky little moan in response, burying his face in the pillow as Dean started to lave his entrance with his tongue, pressing harder and moving faster the more Castiel lost control. He bit the pillow in an effort to muffle the rising pitch of his voice, vocabulary reduced to varying combinations of pleas and Dean’s name as he struggled to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. A single finger breached him alongside Dean’s wicked tongue, causing him to struggle to roll his hips back against his mate’s face. Dimly, he was aware of Dean speaking to him, his voice muffled and vibrating through every inch of him. His mind was clouding over quickly, his heat finally reaching its peak. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t see; he could only hear his blood pounding in his ears and feel everywhere Dean was—and everywhere he wasn’t.

Dean pulled away from him suddenly, leaving him emptier than before and clenching desperately around nothing. He whined at the empty feeling, struggling to hold still beneath his alpha. Warm breath danced over his ear, reeking of his own slick. Castiel felt the blunt tip of Dean’s cock pressed against him, not quite breaching him, just teasing him into madness.

“Was this what you wanted?” Castiel nodded furiously, near tears in his desperation. “I can’t hear you, Cas. Don’t hide from me. I want to hear every needy little sound you make.”

“Yes! Dean, please. I can't—” Castiel sobbed out, the rest of his words lost in a punched out gasp as Dean slid into him without waiting for him to finish speaking. He bottomed out slowly, careful to keep Castiel’s hips pinned to keep him from slamming back like he was straining to do.

Dean’s breath skated across the back of his neck in quick little pants underlined by a low growl, and with it went the sheer desperation of his heat, leaving only the blissful feeling of being filled completely. He relaxed in Dean’s grip, focusing completely on the feeling of Dean slipping out a bit before sliding back in carefully, giving him time to adjust to the stretch. Castiel couldn't take what felt like a snail’s pace for very long before he was struggling to push back against Dean again, trying anything to get him to pick up the pace.

“What did I tell you, Cas? I want to hear every. Little. Sound.” Dean accentuated each word with a hard thrust, forcing a litany of sounds from Castiel’s throat that he had never heard himself make before. Encouraged by the noises, Dean quickly sped up until all Castiel could do was press back against him, mewling helplessly with each stroke. He could feel the heat building low in his gut, dimly aware that Dean was close, too, if the stutter here and there in his rhythm was anything to go by. The feel of Dean’s knot slowly swelling and catching on his rim with every pass caught him off guard with how good it felt, pressing and pulling in all the right places as it started to catch. With one final, solid thrust, his knot finally caught for good, pressing hard against Castiel’s prostate and forcing an orgasm from him with a silent scream.

Dean tugged Castiel down to his side and settled behind him, careful not to put any more pressure on his knot than absolutely necessary, not when the slightest shift had Castiel whining pitifully at the sharp tug, far too sensitive for any kind of stimulation. He found himself drifting to sleep embarrassingly quickly with Dean whispering softly and sweetly into his ear, one arm wrapped protectively around his waist as Castiel tucked himself into his alpha as best he could while they were still tied.

***

The sound of the cabin’s door slamming open and shut again hours later startled Castiel awake. He shot straight up into a sitting position, taking in the strange, ridiculously tall alpha standing in their doorway with a wary, not quite awake eye. The sudden realization that he was stark naked and his marks were exposed hit him like a freight train as he scrambled into a haphazard bow, his face buried in the mattress and the blanket quickly tossed over his back to cover as much skin as he could. It took him several seconds to realize he wasn’t in his old room anymore, and he probably wasn’t going to be punished for his marks being exposed in front of someone else like he would have been at home, but fear-driven instincts and a lingering heat had him frozen on the spot, slight tremors running through him in fear of the worst.

Even Dean sitting up next to him didn’t spur him into moving from his submissive position, and it wasn’t until Dean’s hand was running up and down his spine in soothing strokes, his voice a soft whisper in his ear that Castiel even noticed how badly he was shaking. Slowly he let Dean pull him back into a sitting position, keeping the blanket over him as he went. Castiel kept his head down, eyes glued to the mattress that no doubt reeked of sweat and slick and entirely too embarrassed over his reaction to look up.

“Cas, you okay? Look at me, please.” Slowly, he lifted his gaze to catch Dean’s, letting out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He slumped into Dean’s side, seeking comfort and reassurance and swearing in his mind to rake Pamela’s ass over the coals for inducing his heat and turning him into an overly submissive hormonal basket case.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Can we, uh...can we just pretend that didn’t happen?” Castiel glanced up at the intruding alpha. He hadn’t moved an inch, but he could just make out faint traces of concern from the giant. 

“You won’t hear any complaints from me. My name is Sam, by the way. Dean’s brother. You’re Michael’s little brother, aren’t you?” At Castiel’s nod, the alpha—Sam—continued. “Good to meet you and sorry for scaring you. I didn’t actually think Dean managed to get anyone’s interest this year. Anyway, Dad wants to see both of you as soon as you can get ready.” 

With that Sam whirled around and bolted out the door with a short wave. Dean laughed quietly at him, muttering something about his prude of a brother as he shuffled out of bed, dragging Castiel with him before scooping him into his arms and leaning in for a kiss. Castiel quickly forgot about his awkward awakening, happily burying himself in the scent of content alpha. Dean pulled away when he tried to deepen the kiss, setting him down gently but never taking his hand off of Castiel’s waist.

“C’mon, there’s a small spring out back and I’ve got some clothes for you to wear. We’ll be back in no time, I promise.”

Dean gathered together a couple of sets of clothes and towels, along with a small bucket of stuff, and together they set off for the spring. It really wasn’t very far from the cabin; a small, slightly overgrown path leading the way. The spring sat in a tiny clearing, trees looming overhead from all sides. Despite the mid-spring chill of early morning, the water was a relatively warm temperature, immediately soothing the leftover aches from yesterday and earlier that morning. Despite Castiel’s best efforts at extending their stay in the spring, Dean managed to get them both presentably clean and dressed and on their way back down the hill in under an hour.

The main clearing was steadily emptying out, people running everywhere, tents being pulled down and newly mated pairs meeting each other’s families. Castiel couldn’t help glancing towards where his cairn’s tents had been, already cleared out and empty. He wished he could have thanked Gabriel before they had left; he had no idea when or even if he would be able to see his brother again. He knew if Michael had anything to say about it, he would never see any of his family again, and while that wasn’t exactly a big loss for the most part, there were still a few people he would miss. As far as he was aware, he was the only Novak to have been taken in by the Winchesters. He never had been told why, only that they hadn’t gotten along for years, tolerating each other just long enough to get through the yearly meetings.

It dawned on Castiel as they walked up to the well-aged house that he had never even gone near the house the few times he had visited before. The closer they got, the more its age showed, paint peeling in strips along the weathered wood paneling, the shutters and porch faded and worn. It made it feel more comforting and well-lived in rather than worn down and dilapidated. Some of the boards on the porch creaked when they stepped on them and the screen door squealed a bit when Dean opened it, announcing their arrival to the small group gathered in the main entrance. An older alpha with salt and pepper hair and a similar scent to Dean’s broke off in mid-sentence to turn and look at them as they entered. The woman he had been speaking to nodded to the pair and left, walking down the hall and disappearing into a room near the end. 

“Glad you finally made it, Dean. You must be Castiel. I’m John, Dean’s father. Your brother is waiting for you just down the hall, third door on the right. If you’d like to see him now, go ahead. I need to talk to my son for a minute, we’ll meet you there when we’re done.” John smiled and nodded to him, stepping aside as he bowed his head and walked past. 

The interior of the house was very simply done, wood paneling painted white with minimal decoration and simple yet comfortable looking furniture. The floors looked like they were old pine, polished until it gleamed. In the main room sat a few well-worn leather couches and armchairs surrounding a small fireplace. The hallway was done with the same white paneling, each door a deep brown with different designs carved into each one. Castiel paused in front of the third door, an eagle flying over pine-covered mountains etched into it with exquisite detail. He had barely opened it and stepped inside before he was grabbed and dragged into a hug by his older brother. 

“I didn’t know if I would get to see you again. Michael dismissed us for helping you get to Dean, so the Winchesters are letting us stay for a bit, see how it goes.” At the word ‘us’ Castiel glanced up to see Pamela sitting on one of the twin beds in the room, a sly grin on her face as she gazed in their direction. “But, uh...we don’t exactly have good news. Michael, he kind of…”

“Michael has already sold you to Rowena and accepted payment,” Pamela interrupted when she got impatient waiting for Gabriel to come out with it. “When I found out, I had to get you away from him. I’ve already spoken to John about it, but he wanted to wait and see what you want to do.”

Castiel felt like his spine had been doused in ice water. Michael had sold him. Outright traded him for gods know how much, without even so much as a thought towards his consent. He might have submitted to the idea after he turned 21 and had no options, unfair as he thought the law was, but to have just sold him like livestock...there were few clans left who dared to do it, most having advanced with the times without much complaint. It had been illegal for a few decades now to sell an underaged omega, and the penalty for doing so was somewhat steep. Most favored temporary exile, banishing the offending shifter to wander by themselves for a set time before they were allowed to come back. 

He wasn’t sure what Michael had been thinking, but he knew that if he called Michael out on it, he’d find a way to get retribution, no matter what it took. Best to just let it slide and let Michael deal with the MacLeods not getting their end of the bargain. Michael had clearly dismissed him, and as far as he could tell from the small bit he had seen, his new clan was definitely going to be an improvement. It would be best not to do anything to disturb what peace he might be able to find here.

He pulled away from Gabriel when John stepped into the room with Dean, immediately moving to scent his mate for comfort. He stepped away quickly when Gabriel cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking rather conflicted between strangling Dean and hugging him to death. 

“Dean, this is Gabriel, my brother, and Pamela, former seer for the Novaks.” Castiel spoke before Gabriel could, sure that whatever his brother was going to say was probably not going to be the most pleasant thing he could say. 

“Pleasure to finally meet ya, Dean.” Pamela shot up and walked over to Gabriel, placing a hand on his shoulder in subtle warning. “I might be blind but I don’t need eyes to tell you are going to be quite the catch for our little Castiel here.”

Gabriel glared at Pamela for a second before huffing in annoyance and not quite subtly shifting closer to Castiel, only glaring at Dean occasionally. Not that he could blame his brother. Gabriel had long been in favor of Castiel doing what he wanted, and that had included staying unmated. To see him with Dean was probably going to sting for a while, just like it would probably take Castiel a bit of time to adjust to it. 

“Now that introductions are done, we do need to see to the matter of what to do about Michael.” John’s voice was soft, but it still brought a feeling of dread along with it. “It was my understanding that you didn’t know about the deal Michael made with the MacLeods, correct?” At Castiel’s nod, he took a short breath before continuing. “You won’t be twenty one until next month, and that alone makes it a very serious crime, and the sooner I can convene a meeting, the better. It’s up to you, Castiel. You’re safe here, either way. Just remember that.”

“I’ve already documented the injuries he’s sustained from Michael, including the ones from when he was younger. I’m sorry, Cassie, but I’m not letting that one slide. Selling you took some balls, but trying to punish you when you weren’t under his care anymore? He needs to pay for it, and you know it.” Pamela’s outburst startled Castiel, the color draining from his face rapidly. He hadn’t been too keen on revisiting that particular moment of weakness, even if a good part of the blame fell on his heat for urging him to submit to the alpha demanding it. At the memory the welts left seemed to tighten and throb, the fabric rubbing against them scratching relentlessly. 

“Let me see, son.” It was clear that John was trying to hold back his anger by his scent, and Castiel couldn’t help but be relieved that his anger was on Castiel’s behalf, rather than directed at him. Even so, he lifted his shirt slowly and with shaky fingers, still completely uncomfortable with being exposed in front of people. The sharp intake of breath he heard behind him as he turned around did little to help his reluctance, and he couldn’t help the flinch at the first press of fingers against his back. He didn’t know whose they were and he didn’t dare look back to find out. When prompted, he listed when and why he got each scar. Michael had insisted that each punishment be doled out until first blood for minor infractions, second for the more serious punishments. Not all of them would scar, and those that did leave a permanent mark were usually from the more serious punishments. The one under his shoulder blade was one, and he was pretty sure there was one a little further up on the other side, given to him for sneaking out to the woods with Gabriel one night. The one running just above his hip was from the first time he’d rejected the idea of going to the Claiming, probably when he was about thirteen or so. A few thin, faint lines crossed here and there from the few times he had failed to bleed in time for Michael’s patience. He had never told anyone about them, not even Pamela, though he was sure she knew anyways. It didn’t matter. He described each one with as much detail as he could remember, his voice cracking more and more the longer he went on. He could smell the alphas in the room getting angrier as the list of scars grew larger. Occasionally, he could hear Gabriel whimper in sympathy. He’d known what Michael considered punishment, had been on the receiving end of it himself a few times, but that didn’t mean seeing it exposed so plainly any easier.

By the time he made it to the last one, he was absolutely done, stuffing his shirt over his head as fast as possible. Dean immediately pulled him into his arms, a hand running soothingly down his back while he steadily calmed down. Gabriel reeked of guilt, and John looked carefully at his son, looking to his reactions. 

“He will pay, Cas. I can promise you that.” Dean’s voice was steady, but his scent gave away the underlying rage. 

***

The trip back to the cabin was quiet and tense, everyone’s thoughts on what lay ahead. John had agreed to give Castiel a few days to get past his heat and settle in before calling a meeting, one they would have to try to keep from Michael for as long as possible. He knew it needed to be done, but that didn’t mean he was going to look forward to any of it. If he could have had it his way, the whole thing would have just been put behind him to forget about, but Pamela and Gabriel would never have allowed it, not to mention Dean. Dean was ready to kill Michael on sight, instincts pushing him to protect. Castiel dreaded the two of them ever meeting. He was certain one wouldn’t be walking away.

The sound of Sam shifting the pack thrown over his back brought him back to the present, a bit surprised to find that they were already at the cabin. Sam handed the pack of supplies to Dean, looking as uncomfortable as he had that morning. He tossed his pack to Dean with a quick goodbye and a reminder that they needed to come back sooner rather than later before turning back down the path and all but running back to the house. Despite the tension, Dean still managed a stilted laugh at his brother’s expense, slinging the pack over his shoulder and pushing the door open for Castiel. They had grabbed enough food and clothes for a few days for him to finish out his heat and get a day or so to themselves before they have to deal with everything. He’d much rather not deal with it at all, but even he had to admit that something had to be done.

What he did know right now was that he absolutely just wanted to curl up in the bed with his alpha for a few hours and forget that the rest of the world existed. The morning’s events had left him exhausted, and the interrupted sleep the night before didn’t help matters. He took just enough time to toss his pack on the table beside the others before making a beeline for the bed, flinging his shirt in whatever direction it ended up going and his pants in another. Dean didn’t even question him, he just followed suit and crawled into bed right behind him. Castiel found himself being dragged backwards to be pressed against his alpha as tightly as possible. He only had a few minutes to adjust and get comfortable before he was drifting off, certain that there was something he was forgetting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be slowing down a bit as I don't have quite as much time to write as I would like.
> 
> Once again beta'd by the wonderful kittenbot.

Castiel tried to roll over a few hours after falling asleep, finding himself thoroughly stuck in a cage made by Dean’s limbs. The alpha’s light snores brought a soft smile to his face as for a few moments; everything was perfectly fine.

At least until he glanced up at the table and noticed the small pouch Pamela had given him the other day. The one that she insisted he needed and the one that hadn’t been touched since he first made it here and got claimed. The one that had all the condoms in it.

It felt like his guts had turned to ice. Sure, they’d only done it once, but his luck was just bad enough for that to be all it would take. He hadn’t even known Dean a week and they were already going to have to have one hell of an uncomfortable conversation. He wasn’t sure how Dean would feel about it, but he hoped that Dean would be amiable should the worst case scenario come to be true. Of course, he wasn’t even certain how he himself felt about it. He’d never really wanted kids, but he’d also never given it much thought beyond the fact that he just wanted to remain his own person, not have people who were dependent on him for everything. His reasons for wanting to stay unmated had largely been for the same reasons. 

Still, if he did find himself in that situation, he was pretty certain he would be okay with it. It might take a bit to come to terms with it, but he could do it. Even if he wasn’t interested in actively trying for a pup, it wasn’t something he would be able to walk away from, either. He only hoped Dean would be understanding. 

Slowly Castiel stood, careful not to jostle his still sleeping mate. Late afternoon sun streamed in from the window, illuminating everything in a pale gold light. It was the first chance he’d had since arriving last night to take everything in without something going on, and he took his sweet time in doing so. The cabin itself was surprisingly small, a single room with a fireplace opposite the door, a single round table in the center. An elk hide lay in front of the fireplace, a small brown leather loveseat along the wall to the right, just below the window. The walls were mostly bare, with antique brass oil lamps that looked like they were probably the only source of light in the cabin. Two small night stands stood on either side of their bed, stained a deep brown to match the wood of the walls. Oil lamps sat on both, a thin film of soot lining the glass. A dresser sat just to the left of the door, small and deceptively simple, decorative tooling on the drawers barely noticeable unless you looked hard enough. 

He made his way to the table, picking up the small leather pouch and pulling out one of the small foil packets, unsure how he could have forgotten it at all. He knew Pamela didn’t give him something and tell him he would need it without good reason, and the sinking feeling in his stomach returned tenfold, his gut churning with nerves. He would have to see Pamela, and soon. She would probably ream him a new one for managing to forget the one thing she said he would need, and the longer he thought about it, the more he managed to work himself up into a panic. It didn’t matter if he knew he was being unreasonable, he still wasn’t ready and the thought alone was terrifying him.

The feel of Dean’s arms wrapping around his midsection made Castiel jump, Dean tightening his grip in response as he buried his nose in the crook of Castiel’s neck and inhaled softly. Dean’s hands traced patterns along his waist, sometimes following the trails of ink, sometimes just circling them gently. He didn’t speak, he didn’t try to get Castiel to speak, he just held him silently, calming him down with his scent and his motions. When Castiel could finally breathe normally again, Dean carefully picked the condom from his hand, turning it over for a moment before tossing it back onto the table, slowly encouraging Castiel to turn and face him without taking his hands off of him once. 

“Is this what has you so worried?” Dean radiated calm, his scent softer and far sweeter than it usually was. 

“You don’t understand, Pamela’s heat inducers increase fertility, and she told me I would need these and I didn’t listen and I didn’t think about I—” Castiel was cut off by Dean slowly pulling him in for a kiss, his eyes fluttering shut as his senses were flooded with the scent and feel of his mate. He leaned into the kiss, deepening it out of instinct and failing to swallow the little whine when Dean pulled away before he wanted him to.

“It’ll be okay, Cas. Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. You wouldn’t be the first person to get knocked up in one go, and you definitely wouldn’t be the last. I’ll admit, I would rather wait, if we even decide we want pups at all, but even if we don’t get that option, everything will be fine.” 

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s choice of terminology, some of the worry fading as he allowed himself to be wrapped up in Dean’s arms. Knowing that they were more or less on the same page as each other was a welcome relief, and he was far more confident about being able to handle it than he had when he got up. 

“Are you out of heat already? You smell different, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

Just like that, all of his worries came back in force. He hadn’t noticed before, but now that it had been mentioned, he couldn’t feel it anymore, and the only scent that remained was a lingering trace of it still clinging to his skin. It definitely hadn’t been a full day yet, and he was sure it wasn’t supposed to have worn off this fast. 

“We need to see Pamela, and soon. I should still be in heat. I’ve had to take her inducers before, and they could last for a few days with one dose. I don’t think that one was very strong, but it hasn’t even been a full day yet.” 

“Why did you need to take inducers?”

“It’s a really long story, but when I was fifteen I didn’t cycle at all. Pamela waited three months for me to start naturally, and when I didn’t, she induced them for the last three months of the season. Worst heats I ever had.”

“Did she ever say why?”

“No, not that I remember. She was concerned by it, but I cycled normally the next season and she never really brought it up again. Can’t tell you how relieved I was. I never want to have to go through that again if I don’t have to.” Castiel blanched at the memory of the first heat that season, smacking Dean lightly in the arm at his laughter. “Yeah, laugh now. Just wait until I make you try it.”

“That wouldn’t actually work, would it? I mean, I’m an alpha. It wouldn’t actually do anything, right?” This time it was Dean’s turn to look uncomfortable at the thought, and Castiel’s turn to laugh.

“Why don’t you ask Gabriel about that? It’s a rather interesting story.”

“I really think I’d rather not…” Dean trailed off at the thought, suppressing a small chuckle. “It doesn’t sound all that pleasant.”

“It was pretty funny at the time. Still is, in my opinion. He hasn’t touched one of my drinks since, so I would say it wasn’t all bad.”

“I’ll be sure to ask him about it when we stop by later. I figured now that we’re up I may as well take you around, show you where everything is. This place is huge and you can get lost pretty quick if you don’t have at least a rough idea of where you are.”

Castiel pulled him in for one last kiss before wandering around the small cabin in an effort to figure out where he threw his clothes, swearing under his breath when he managed to find all of Dean’s clothes before finding any of his. He finally found his shirt beneath the dresser, his pants kicked beneath the bed in their haste to get to bed earlier. They didn’t waste any time, out the door and heading back down the hill as soon as he managed to get his shoes on.

The clearing was still surprisingly full, only about half of the original crowd completely cleared out and gone. Many chose to stay for a day or so after the gathering, taking the time to recuperate and visit family before making the long journey back. Not all of them lived four hours away in a bordering state. Carefully, he picked his way through the thinning crowd after his mate, ducking from smoking fire pit to cabin side as they made their way across the clearing, past the main house and to the wide dirt trail on the opposite side of the clearing. No effort was made to hide this path, worn flat and smooth from years of use. The tracks of livestock as well as local wildlife were visible in the softer portions of the path, only the occasional rut mark from a wheel cutting into the dirt. The forest rose up on either side, far enough away from the path to make travel relatively easy, but close enough to make you feel enveloped by it, shrouded by the shadows cast on the path.

Eventually, the dirt widened out into another small clearing, not too far from the main area. Here there were lean-tos and a storage barn, full to both ends with hay and hand-sacked feed. The sounds of goats and a few cows were interrupted by the occasional harsh bray of a donkey. Further down through the clearing a few small garden plots were barely visible, with a greenhouse peeking out from behind the barn. A small shed sat near a dark green gate; the few halters and lead ropes sitting on nails hanging on the side with a hitching post looked to be a good indication that it was probably a tack room. Castiel knew most clans did their best to provide what was needed for those living on the land, but Castiel had never really been allowed near the agricultural areas back at home, Michael having deemed them all as being work unfit for an omega. Of course, there was no guarantee that Dean wouldn't feel the same way, but it was a conversation for another time. For now his goal was to learn where everything was, as Dean had seemed adamant about him being able to wander without getting lost. 

“Just down the road a ways is where we usually keep the vehicles, but they don’t get taken out unless it’s time for a supply run, which usually isn’t more than once a year, towards the fall. The pastures go on for a few dozen acres in that direction, but unless you’re checking fences there’s really no need to be in there. It’s not the smoothest terrain and it’s easy to get lost quickly.” Dean paused for a moment, deep in thought over something before snapping out of it and returning his attention to Castiel. “Past the garages are most of the living quarters, scattered throughout the hills for a couple of miles or so. There are paths between each house, but it takes a bit of getting used to to remember who lives where. If Pamela and Gabriel decide to stay here, they’ll be getting one of their own soon. Mine’s just down the road from here.”

Castiel was taken aback for a moment that Dean had an actual home, but he thought better of commenting. He’d have to be an idiot to think Dean would really live in a tiny cabin off in the middle of nowhere. He felt a small pang of excitement as they started off down the glorified road, past the barn and gardens and a few small sheds clearly repurposed as garages. They took a small dirt path off to the right of the buildings, the trees closing in as the path shrank down to being barely navigable. Without warning, a small, modestly sized house appeared between the trees, the siding and shutters closely resembling that of the main house. There was no porch, however, just a small set of steps leading to a dark green screen door with intricately designed wrought iron bars. He was so lost in taking in the view of everything, he didn’t even notice Dean disappearing through the front door, returning a few moments later trying to shove something into his pocket while he closed everything back up.

“I’d have us staying here for the week, but unfortunately being home means working, so I’d rather just stay out in the cabin and give us time to adjust before jumping right back into everything.” Castiel nodded along to Dean’s explanation, glancing one last time at the quiet little house before they started making their way back across the clearings to the main house. He still had to see Pamela and the day was starting to wear thin.

They hadn’t made it more than halfway across the main clearing before Gabriel came bounding towards them, panic and worry clear in his scent. He didn’t even bother trying to speak to either of them, just gesturing for them to follow while he struggled to catch his breath. 

“MacLeods—Rowena—she wants to see you.” Gabriel finally managed to bite out. “Ran damn near from one end of this place to the other. Quit vanishing every time something happens. It’s not funny anymore, ‘cuz I’m normally the one that has to go find you. Now come on. That bitch gives me the creeps.”

Castiel stared silently after his brother, only moving forward when he felt Dean’s hand press against the small of his back, guiding him in the direction Gabriel was heading. The only thing keeping him from really panicking was the budding confidence that Dean would keep him safe. Of course, he really hadn’t met Rowena before this past week, and he didn’t know all that much about her. For all he knew she might not even have known his real age. If that was the case, it probably wouldn’t be more complicated than simply requesting she take it up with Michael.

The house was eerily quiet when they finally made it across the clearing. only hushed voices drifted from a room on the far end of the hall. Dean led the way, Gabriel falling in step beside Castiel. His scent reeked of nervous discomfort, but before Castiel could ask him about it, they were already to the door the voices were coming from and Castiel found himself face to face with Rowena, leader of the MacLeod clan and his reaction to her was immediate. Everything about her threw him off and made him uncomfortable, from the falsely pleasant scent she gave off to the inhuman glint in her eye. The last time Castiel had seen her, he had been fairly drunk, but even trying to recall the drunken memory left him feeling uneasy. 

“Castiel, darling, I’m so glad you finally made it!” Rowena grabbed him and dragged him into a stiff, uncomfortable embrace, completely ignoring the bristling alpha standing right next to them. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you at all with any of this, but I needed you to know personally that there aren’t any hard feelings. Your brother and father-in-law already made it very clear that you were not at fault for anything that happened. John here has informed me of the planned meeting in a few weeks, and I just wanted to let you know that I will be supporting you completely. Whatever you need of me, just ask it. I know my son had his heart set on you, but I’ve already told him he’ll just have to take it up with your brother.”

Castiel just stared at her, struggling to process everything she had said. He had been expecting her to demand compensation at the very least, though she could easily have demanded that the Winchesters hand him over to them regardless of the legality. He doubted that demand would have been entertained for long, but that didn’t stop his mind from running through all the potentially awful situations before finally coming back around to what was actually said. 

“Your understanding and cooperation are appreciated,” Dean’s voice, barely above a growl, broke the tense silence following Rowena’s little speech. “But you’ll understand if I request that you not remain here longer than necessary.”

“Of course, alpha.” At least Rowena appeared intelligent enough to understand when she’d been dismissed. “You really do have quite the treasure there. See that you keep him safe, will you?”

With that, Rowena sauntered out of the room, the lingering scent of dishonesty tainting the air. Castiel wasn’t quite surprised that he didn’t like her any more than he did the first time he met her. She’d sounded sincere enough, but rarely did scents lie. The last time he’d been wrong about someone’s scent was around the last time he’d had a nasty little summer cold. 

“I don’t trust her.” John broke the silence first, staring at the door just like everyone else. 

“She reeks of deceit,” Castiel replied, not quite mindful of what he was saying.

“She reeks of what?” Dean’s response had Castiel staring at him for a moment before he realized he hadn’t actually mentioned his ability to scent others’ emotions to anyone. He’d been so used to everyone around him already knowing about it, he’d completely forgotten about it.

“Deceit. I’m fairly sure she was lying. I can scent someone’s emotions, barring illness or injury. I apologize for not mentioning it sooner, it slipped my mind.”

“That’s...pretty damn useful actually. So you can tell what a person is thinking just by their scent?” Dean seemed almost excited by the idea.

“Sort of. Simple emotions, like happiness and anger are pretty easy to scent, but things like dishonesty or concern are a bit harder to sort out. It took me years to learn, but it’s usually accurate.”

“It might be best if we don’t let everyone know that, at least for now. If she really is planning on something, it will be better if she doesn’t know that we have an advantage.” John sounded just as interested as his son, though Castiel had to admit that keeping quiet made sense.

Once the initial worry and unease had lifted for the most part, Castiel remembered what they had been on their way to do in the first place, and just like that, worry of a new sort managed to worm its way into his thoughts.

“I hate to be rude, but I needed to see Pamela about something somewhat urgently. Do you by chance know where she went?” Castiel desperately hoped his father-in-law understood.

“As far as I know she went down to see Missouri, our local healer. It’s back the way you came, Dean knows the way.” John’s smile and nod was all the reassurance he needed, and with a small wave, Castiel was out the door again, Dean following him out of the house before taking the lead once outside. 

Missouri’s small cabin of sorts was only about a half mile or so from Dean’s more permanent house, looking far more like the small cabins dotting the main clearing. Pamela and someone Castiel could only assume to be Missouri sat in small simple chairs just under the awning in front of the cabin. Upon seeing them, Pamela immediately stood up and walked over to them, grabbing Castiel in a slightly reluctant hug before pulling him back slightly and grabbing his face to ‘look’ him in the eye.

“How’s the mated life treatin’ ya? A bit better than you thought it would be?” Of course Pamela would rub it in. He really hadn’t expected any different. “Your heat should be wearing off soon, make it a bit more enjoyable for you.”

“Yeah, about that…” Castiel couldn’t help the sheepish glance despite knowing she wouldn’t see it.

“What did you do? You did actually use everything in the pouch, right?”

“Mostly? I mean, we may have forgotten one or two things.”

“Castiel James Novak, don’t you dare tell me you forgot the condoms.”

“Pretty sure I did. Things just kind of happened, it was the middle of the night, or really early in the morning, I can’t remember which and—”

“You, kid, are a damn moron sometimes.” Pamela glared at him for a moment, only able to hold it for so long before softening completely and grinning at him. “Fortunately for you, you’ll only have a couple of weeks before you find out just how that oops turns out. In the meantime, you have other things to worry about. You remember when you were about fifteen and you didn’t cycle at all for a while? I told you Michael had had you bound and that I was afraid that it would disrupt everything and I had been right.”

“I remember that the stuff you gave me was absolutely awful, but that was really about it. That season was probably about the most interesting thing that had happened that year.” Castiel paused, certain he had heard that last sentence wrong. “Wait, bound what?”

“When Michael forced me to have you bound, I altered it myself. Being mated unbinds it, rather than Michael’s will.” Pamela replied, purposefully ignoring his question. “You kiddo, have one hell of a couple of weeks ahead of you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is mostly beta'd. Will be edited when it's looked over. Apologies for the delay!

Castiel could only stare at Pamela with an incredulous expression. He had absolutely no memory of any of what she was talking about, and it didn’t sound feasible that he could have forgotten something like that. He wasn’t exactly sure what about him Michael would have had bound, either. He wasn’t related to a seer, he wasn’t an alpha and even if he had been, he would have been third in line behind Gabriel. There wasn’t anything else about him that might be important for anything.

“Bound what exactly? What does any of that have to do with Cas’ heat ending early?” Dean definitely didn’t seem thrilled with anything Pamela had said. 

“Dean, don’t you dare get snappy. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen to your mate, I promise.” Missouri finally spoke, walking up from behind Pamela to stand right in front of Dean. 

“If you’d calm you your adorably protective ass down, I’d explain.” Pamela glared straight at Dean, effectively silencing him. “Castiel’s parents didn’t come to lead the Novak clan by accident. Their ancestors were rumored to be some of the last true shifters we know of. They were able to shift at will and they were supposed to be able to teach those not born with the ability a simpler variation of shifting. There hasn’t been one born in hundreds of years, not until Cassie here. You presented well before you ever should have, and because of that, no one ever suspected that you would be a true shifter. But around fifteen or so, you started acting differently. Restless, more aggressive, more unfocused. It took me a bit to figure out what was going on, but once I did, Michael demanded your abilities be bound. At the time I thought it was just to make sure you didn’t try to take control of the clan from him, but my guess is he thought he could get a better price if he showed you could be controlled. I’m sorry Cassie. I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t do it, he would have found someone else and I couldn’t let that happen.”

Castiel just stared at Pamela, struggling to understand what she had just told him. He’d grown up hearing stories about his great grandparents. They were supposed to have been the last true shifters, but surely if another one was supposed to be born, he would have heard of it. He’d heard all the old legends and tales, and none of them had ever mentioned another true shifter being born. Pamela had to be wrong. He hadn’t been bound when he was fifteen, he just hadn’t gone into heat. He’d had three seasons of unaided heats, it wasn’t uncommon to stop cycling for a while when that happened. She couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be a true shifter.

“I know what you’re thinking, Cas. I know you don’t believe me. These next couple of weeks are going to be rough, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. Have I been wrong about anything yet?” Pamela ‘watched’ him closely, her hand on his shoulder for reassurance. 

“Yeah. Once, when I was about ten, you told me I’d be able to get a pet. That never happened.”

Pamela stared at him incredulously for a second before bursting into laughter. “I said you would be able to get a pet. I didn’t say when. Last time I checked, you’ve got yourself a cute little wolf standing right next to you.”

Dean turned to snap at Pamela for the dig, but found himself holding back, silenced almost immediately by the sudden change in the atmosphere.

“I’m serious, Castiel. It’s a lot to take in. It’s going to be a lot to work through. I know you, though; I have your whole life. You’ll come through just fine. Now, since unbinding something like that takes some time, there are a few things you should be looking out for over the next few weeks. Both of you.” She turned to glare at Dean, smirking when he immediately snapped to attention at being addressed directly. “Shifting takes some serious effort and energy. You’re probably going to be pretty restless by the end of it, and you’re probably not going to be able to sleep much. You should start eating more, and by more, I mean twice what you do now, though towards the end you probably won’t want to eat much, if at all. Basically, you’re more or less going to feel and act pregnant, which...well, shit. That definitely doesn’t help your little ‘problem’, now does it?”

“Not particularly, no. So I just get to spend the next few weeks guessing if I actually am a true shifter or if I’m pregnant, or both?”

“Pretty much. Sorry, kid. That one’s on you. I wouldn’t be able to tell you one way or the other for at least another week anyway. You’ll know for sure when you finally shift for the first time. Makes it more interesting at any rate”

“Wait, how the hell does that work? Wouldn’t shifting pregnant be a really bad idea?” Dean finally spoke up, concern spiking through his scent rapidly as he tensed up.

“Generally yes, but in every known instance, pregnant shifters could never shift fully. The humans’ ideas and legends of werewolves actually came from a few pregnant shifters who were spotted. Same thing for angels, demons, fawns, satyrs, you name it. If it was half something, it was probably a dumbass that got caught.”

“I get satyrs and werewolves, but how did humans get angels and demons from us?” Concern was still present in Dean’s scent, but he had visibly relaxed, leaning closer towards Castiel as he spoke.

“Since it’s a partial shift, only their extremities are affected. Usually it’s just their hands, feet, sometimes a bit down the back of their neck, or so some of the stories went. But birds and bats always developed wings, too. No one knew why then, and we still don’t know now. I do know the same thing ought to happen to Cas, too.”

“That’s...actually kinda cool.” Dean turned to Castiel with a sly grin. “You’ll be like my own little angel.”

“Not funny, Dean. Now, that’s all well and weird and I’m still pretty sure I don’t believe any of it yet, but that doesn’t explain why my heat ended early or what I’m supposed to do now.” Castiel glanced from Dean to Pamela, wishing for once that he could get a straight answer.

“I was afraid that one wasn’t mixed as strongly as I usually do, and it looks like I was right. Being out of season probably didn’t do it any favors either, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it. If you’re lucky, you’ve got a few weeks still before you should start cycling. I gotta warn you though, a mated heat is nothing like what you’ve had so far. Oughta be fun. As for you,” she turned to face Dean again, grabbing him by the shoulder to make sure he was really paying attention to her. “You are going to take your mate home and take care of him, you hear me? It’s not going to be the most pleasant time for either of you, and he’s going to need you to stick with him. Just be patient. Now, get your asses back and go have fun.”

“Well, you have been immensely helpful,” Dean said, rolling his eyes at the seer with a fond smile aimed at Missouri. Castiel batted at Dean’s arm in her defence. 

With that Pamela whirled around and headed for Missouri’s cabin, whispering something in her ear that caused the older woman to burst out in laughter, leaving the pair to stare at them as they vanished through the front door.

They returned to their cabin in relative silence. Any effort Dean made at breaking the silence met with a halfhearted grunt in response. It wasn’t that he was trying to ignore Dean, he just had far too much on his mind to focus on any one thing. Everything was a jumbled blur of fear and confusion, the only comfort to be found was in the scent of his mate, solid and real and warm where Dean was pressed as close to his side as possible. He was guided through the door quietly, the simplicity of the cabin a more welcome sight than he’d seen practically all week. Rather than bolt for the bed as he seemed prone to doing, he instead leaned back against the door, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking up at Dean. The alpha really didn’t look much better than Castiel did, the events of the day taking their toll on both of them. They still had Michael and the clan meeting to worry about on top of the MacLeods. Adding in everything with Pamela and his supposed ability to shift was a bit too much to handle at the moment, and he was desperate to just forget about everything for a while. He watched distantly as Dean started to dig through the previously abandoned packs of supplies left on the table, struggling to sort his thoughts.

“What am I supposed to do?” Castiel dropped his gaze, studying the knots and whorls in the wood flooring in an effort to put to words his concerns. Being incapable of doing anything besides sitting and waiting for everyone else to take care of his problems was frustrating him to no end. “Michael is still my brother, despite all that he’s done. Some part of me still feels like I’m supposed to submit to him. He manipulated my entire life up until now because of it. What if he finds a way to keep manipulating me? What if I never manage to escape him? One minute I want to kill him and the next...”

Dean was in his space in an instant, his hands on either side of Castiel’s face as he forced the omega to look at him.

“Is that what you’ve been worried about? I promise, you have nothing to fear. He can’t reach you here, I don’t care how hard he tries. I’ll kill him myself if he dares to try anything while I’m around. He’s not in control of you anymore, Cas. You are. You just need to remember that.” Dean wrapped himself around Castiel, one hand stroking along his spine while the other remained on his face, caressing his cheek slowly and carefully. He didn’t know how long they remained that way, only that he hadn’t felt so calm in a long time, his mate’s scent doing wonders for his nerves. 

Castiel relaxed in Dean’s hold, the scent of his mate along with his words tinged with confidence and pride that did wonders to ease his anxieties. He leaned into the hand on his face, bringing his arms up to wrap around Dean’s neck and pull him closer. Almost on instinct, he pressed his lips against Dean’s, soft and chaste as a way to express his gratitude when he feared words might fail him. Dean held him as he worked through his emotions, feeling the weight of it lift from him and deepening the kiss in response. It didn’t take long for Dean’s soft words to comfort him, and even less time for the scent of his mate’s arousal to tickle his nose.

Spurred on by his mate’s encouragement, Castiel carefully steered Dean backwards from the wall to the bed, tugging strategically at various pieces of clothing as they went and succeeding at stripping them both completely. Castiel took the opportunity to pin Dean the second they reached the bed, catching his wrists above his head and straddling his hips. He flashed Dean a mischievous grin before bending down to nip teasingly at the junction between neck and shoulder, biting and licking a line from one side to the other. He could feel slick starting to trace a line down his thigh, and the moment Dean scented it, he was lost.

“You don’t really think you can keep me pinned like this, do you?” Dean growled playfully into his ear, straining against the tight grip he had on his wrists.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me.” Castiel grinned at his mate, too wrapped up in the game his mate had started to even attempt to keep a tight grip.

With a scheming grin, Dean pulled out of his grip, his hands coming to a quick stop on Castiel’s hips. He only had a moment to contemplate what Dean intended next before he was pulled down by his neck into a searing kiss, Dean’s other hand slipping down to hit home with two fingers immediately, pausing only to gather the small bit of slick dripping down his thigh. Dean rubbed against his prostate relentlessly, changing pressure constantly. Castiel groaned at the sudden assault, forgetting to breath properly for a moment, let alone kiss Dean back.

“That-ah, shit-that isn’t fair and y-you know it,” Castiel growled, struggling to keep his voice even against the onslaught of pleasure spiking through him at an alarming rate. He could feel slick dripping faster the longer Dean teased him, every whimper swallowed as soon as he felt it rising. He couldn’t give Dean that kind of satisfaction. Not yet.

“Who said anything about playing fair?” Dean whispered in his ear, increasing the pressure steadily as he encouraged Castiel to rock back against his hand.

“Try-try harder, little wolf. It’s gonna take more tha-ohfuckrighththere-that to get me to give in.”

“Really? Right th-?” Dean accentuated his point with a particularly hard pass against his prostate, choking on a groan when Castiel grabbed his wrist, jerking his hand out with one rough movement and guiding himself back and down on Dean’s cock with another.

He wriggled around a little to adjust to the sudden fullness, grinning at the helpless little whine Dean let out at the motion.

“Yeah. I’d say right about there.” Castiel rolled his hips a few times as his head fell back at the feeling, a small sigh of satisfaction escaping him as he did. With one last slow movement, he bent down to whisper in Dean’s ear. “What are you gonna do about it?”

With a growl, Dean fought to control the pace, grunting in mock frustration when Castiel only moved with him.

“Not so fast, little wolf. I call the shots here. You-” He swiveled his hips a bit as soon as Dean settled against the mattress again, clenching hard enough to drag a groan out of his mate. “You get to sit there and take it.”

He set a brutal pace with that, purposefully riding out every attempt Dean made at taking over with a little teasing growl. Eventually Dean gave up completely, his hands resting on Castiel’s hips as he relaxed into the mattress and took what Castiel gave him. He threw his head back at the feeling, angling his hips to nail his prostate with almost every move.

It felt like minutes later, or perhaps an eternity, before Castiel felt his orgasm building. He dropped his forehead to Dean’s chest, his rhythm faltering as he finally let Dean take the lead. Dean didn’t hesitate to let loose, planting his feet on the mattress and slamming Castiel down onto him at the same time he thrusted upwards, knocking a litany of sounds from his throat with every thrust. He felt Dean’s knot forming, and even through the haze of pleasure Dean was flooding him with he still ground down against it with everything he had, letting out a gasp as it breached him and held, pressing against his prostate and forcing his orgasm from him.

He remained bent over Dean, his forehead resting against his mate’s chest as he struggled to catch his breath. He smiled into his mate, clinging to him gratefully as they drifted off.

 

***  
The moon shone with a nearly obscene brightness, glinting between the thickly crowded branches and spilling onto the forest floor below. Castiel sat beneath a particularly large bur oak, nothing but the quiet calm of the surrounding woods to keep him company. He had snuck out while his mate slept in an effort to clear his mind. It had been four days since they had spoken to Pamela, five if he counted the fact that it was likely near dawn, and he barely had a moment’s peace. He had chosen to speak to John about Michael the next day, going over their best course of action while setting a tentative schedule for meeting with and trying to sway the other clans into seeking action against his brother.

He still wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Despite being dragged to every gathering since he was twelve, he had rarely been allowed to spend much time around others outside of his clan. None of his siblings had, even Gabriel. Now, looking at the massive difference between the way the Winchesters lived and how his own clan had been run, he could see why. He wasn’t really afraid of Michael, he couldn’t be. He’d lived through the worst Michael could do to him with little more than a few scars here and there to show for it. There wasn’t much his brother could do to him anymore, and it was that feeling coupled with the ever-present sense of blood relation that kept him from wanting to go through with any of it. He wanted to forget about his family and just make the best of what he had here, but he knew he never could. He knew how he’d been treated, he knew how even those unrelated by blood were treated, and he couldn’t abandon them to their fate. 

Still, with his mind so made up, Michael was far from his biggest concern. An uncomfortable subject to be sure, but he had already made his decision. Rather, he found his issue to be that Pamela was, of course, looking to be right. He wasn’t quite sure what always made him insist that she was wrong, though the fact that he was often the subject of her more outlandish predictions could be a very good reason. He had been hoping that for once in his life he could be right. Instead, he found himself doing exactly what she said he would be doing. 

The first day after speaking to her hadn’t been too bad, though he caught himself listening to things no one else seemed to be able to hear, and at one point managed to spot a small rabbit on the other side of the clearing they were in, not realizing that the rabbit was so far away all Dean could make out was the vaguest sense of movement on occasion. It had startled him when he finally noticed, though his sight and hearing had always been a bit better than everyone else’s. His sense of smell never did improve, though he had to wonder if that wasn’t just because it had never been tamped down with everything else. 

The next couple of days had been far less enjoyable, as Castiel soon found himself attempting to eat everything in sight, followed quickly by an all consuming need to nap constantly. His attitude about the whole situation was less than pleasant, and more than a few times Castiel wondered exactly how it was Dean was so willing to stay near him when he was so grouchy.

When he had woken up earlier however, the mere thought of food was enough to turn his stomach. Try as he might, there was no getting back to sleep, so he wandered off a short ways into the heavily wooded land surrounding the cabin. Maybe if he surrounded himself with something quiet and calm, he might be able drift back to sleep. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat beneath the tree, watching the moon reflect off of the few clouds dotting the blue-black sky. The occasional shuffle of a small rodent caused him to glance in the direction of the sound for a few moments before he was able to identify it, at which point he would shake his head and return to gazing at the moon. 

The soft footfalls of his mate making his way through the sparse underbrush were easy to pick out. Despite his best efforts, Dean wasn’t capable of being described as quiet at the best of times. His scent was sharp and blatantly obvious, coupled with a voice made to entice sin and eyes that drew the attention of everyone in the room meant that Dean was quite noticeable wherever he happened to be. He was fairly certain Dean was completely unaware of his affect on those around him, and he was just fine with that.

“What are you doing out here?” Dean appeared in front of him, his short hair outlined in silver against the moonlight.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” His mate crouched down in front of him, the green of his eyes just barely visible in the dark. 

“I’ve worried you enough. I was hoping some fresh air would do me some good.”

“Has it?”

“Not really.” Castiel glanced away at the sound of a rodent darting across the forest floor before returning his gaze to Dean with a soft chuckle. “It’s not as quiet as it used to be.”

“No, I would imagine not.” With that Dean sat down right next to him, leaning into his side and relaxing completely. Apparently his alpha had just needed to be near him, as it wasn’t long before soft snores could be heard.

Castiel wasn’t sure how long they sat beneath the tree, just that the sun was well on its way across the sky before Dean finally stirred. He had slid from Castiel’s shoulder sometime during the night, curling into his lap instead. He was slow to move, letting Dean snuffle and rub his face against whatever fabric he could reach as he woke up in stages. Finally, a bleary-eyed Dean sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before stretching the kinks out from sleeping in such an awkward position. Without a single word spoken, he held his hand out to Castiel, a soft smile on his face when Castiel accepted and stood to return to the cabin with him.

They would be getting ready to move into Dean’s actual home tomorrow. He had enjoyed their time at the cabin, but he was excited to finally get to see the inside of what would most likely be his permanent home. For now, he focused his seemingly endless energy on packing and sorting everything Dean had hauled up to the cabin. It unfortunately wasn’t enough to occupy more than an hour or two of his time, clothes and toiletries being the majority of the things Dean had thought necessary to bring. He burned another hour or so bathing in the spring behind the cabin, but even that wasn’t enough to settle him. 

Dean shoved him out the door, promising repeatedly that it would be perfectly fine for him to explore on his own and to come back when Castiel was ready so he could get a nap in. He figured it was a reasonable enough request. While he had gotten plenty of sleep recently, Dean hadn’t, having been far too worried about his mate all week. Not willing to subject Dean to his irritable grouching, he agreed without much of an argument and found himself wandering lazily down through the clearing to the main house. Pamela and Gabriel would be finding more permanent living arrangements soon, though it seemed Pamela was quite content staying with Missouri for the moment. It was Gabriel who hadn’t really found a place for himself yet, and Castiel couldn’t help but feel guilty for it, even if his brother had repeatedly told him that none of it was his fault.

As though his brother was capable of reading minds, Gabriel burst out the front door of the main house, grabbing Castiel in an overly tight hug, refusing to let go until Castiel gave up trying to squirm out of it.

“And here I was, expecting you to reek of a good time. What, you and Dean-o not getting along like you hoped?” Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder as he pulled back, looking completely unwilling to stop touching his brother any time soon. Not that Castiel could blame him, they had been virtually inseparable as kids and he’d spent the majority of the week holed up away from everyone.

“We’ve been getting along just fine, thank you, and what we do or don’t do is none of your business. If you must know, I haven’t been feeling my best this week.” 

“Yeah, Pamela told me about that, or at least a little bit of it. So you really think you’re a true shifter?”

“That or I’m pregnant and it’s just not settling well.”

“Fuck Cassie, seriously?” Gabriel stopped short in his efforts to not quite subtly lead Castiel back into the house to stare at him incredulously. “You haven’t even been mated a week! You know there’s nothing wrong with waiting a bit, right? Like maybe a little bit longer than a few days?”

“It wasn’t my intention, I assure you. Dean is just...very distracting.”

“Well, let’s just hope it’s feathers you’re trying to grow and not a mini-me. I am way too young to be an uncle, even if I would make the coolest uncle ever.” Gabriel seemed to relax a fraction, a giant grin pasted on his face at the thought.

They wandered the grounds slowly, talking about how they were adjusting to a new clan. Gabriel had been talking with John about staying at the main house for a while longer, maybe babysit some of the younger kids of the clan now that he had some free time to himself. He was extremely curious about Dean, protective instincts obvious despite Gabriel’s best efforts to mask them behind his sarcasm. 

Even so, Gabriel seemed to be more at ease here, regaling Castiel with tales of the misadventures he’d managed to get into in their short time here. Without Michael’s overbearing presence to stifle him, Gabriel seemed to have grown bold, laughing more, joking more and looking far more comfortable with everything around them. Castiel couldn’t help but relax in Gabriel’s company, the soft scents of happiness and comfort making him feel more at home than he had in ages.

They spent the rest of the morning and a large part of the afternoon wandering and talking before Gabriel insisted they needed to head back and get something to eat. Castiel had been so absorbed in spending time with his brother that he hadn’t even realized how long it had been, though he wasn’t terribly surprised to find that he really wasn’t hungry at all, despite having not eaten since the morning before. Even the thought of eating turned his stomach a bit, and he was starting to wonder if he didn’t need to see Pamela soon, if something wasn’t going wrong after all. The more he thought about it, the more he became aware of a faint tingling sensation under his skin. He wasn’t sure how long it had been going on, but it couldn’t have been too long if he was only just noticing it now. 

As luck would have it, Pamela and Missouri were already on their way to the main house, though Castiel wasn’t terribly sure he believed her when she said she was only there to see Gabriel for a bit. Suspicious coincidences aside, he was still happy enough to try to stomach something to eat with them.

“Well, you certainly work fast, kid. I was going to just get some lunch, but from the looks of you I’m going to have to wait on that for a bit.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this taking so long! Some major life changes kind of caught me off guard, and I didn't get a chance to work on this until last week. Updates should even out as I don't anticipate any more interruptions.
> 
> As always, beta'd by the wonderful kittenbot.

“Are you sure this is supposed to be happening today? I felt fine this morning.” Castiel flopped backwards onto the grass, thoroughly convinced that the breathing exercises Pamela had been adamant on him using for the past several hours were meant to do little more than piss him off. Knowing her, he probably wasn’t too far off the mark. There was no way some controlled breathing was the key to shifting.

“Might not be the key, but it’ll help. This isn’t exactly gonna be pleasant the first time around.” Pamela gave him an exasperated look, making him realize he’d said the last bit out loud. “However, this needs to happen today, and you need to be able to calm down and focus. You’re literally vibrating with energy, and you can’t maintain that for very long, not safely anyway. Now shut up, focus on your breathing and relax. The rest should come naturally enough sooner or later.”

With an exaggerated groan, Castiel sat back up and resumed the exercises. Deep breath in, slow breath out. He had to admit, Pamela was probably right, just like she had been about almost everything else in the last couple of weeks. He felt jittery, nauseated and frustrated. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling, what he was supposed to be waiting for, but he was starting to get impatient. Pamela wasn’t very forthcoming with details, having to remind him frequently that all that was known was what had been written down, and that barely covered anything on the subject at all.

An hour had passed with him doing nothing more than breathing and staring at the back of his eyelids before he felt anything that could have been considered progress. The jittery feeling had escalated into full on tremors, a fine sheen of sweat had broken out across most of his body, and while his frustration had calmed considerably, there was still a strong underlying sense of unease. He felt nervous and restless, like he needed to get up and move, but every slight shift of his weight sent what felt like rather unpleasant sparks of lightning dancing across his skin. He’d already shed his clothes a while ago, not really in the mood to potentially ruin any of the few he owned. He wasn’t exactly comfortable being completely naked out in the open, but it certainly wasn’t the first time and it wasn’t likely to be the last time. Nudity wasn’t as commonplace as it had been centuries or even decades ago, but plenty of families still preferred it. He’d been told plenty of times by the elders of varying clans that he should be grateful that unclaimed omegas weren’t paraded around nude for potential mates anymore, though his brothers had assured him repeatedly that they had been exaggerating and that such practices had been largely outlawed ages ago.

Finally, the restlessness got to be too much for Castiel to bear sitting any longer. Gabriel, who had elected to stick around and help his brother out however he could, helped him to his feet, stumbling as he tried to straighten up. Every nerve protested the movement, singing in pain as he tried and failed to hold steady. It felt like his skin had caught fire, a stinging heat that he felt straight down to his bones. He ended up keeling over straight into Gabriel, a strangled cry forcing its way from his throat before he could swallow it back down. Even with his brother trying to hold him up, he hit the ground hard, muscles seizing as he struggled to catch his breath. He curled in on himself, dimly aware of Gabriel and Pamela’s voices coming from somewhere on his left. He thought he might have heard Dean’s voice for a moment, but everything was fading far too quickly for him to be certain.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, later Castiel opened his eyes to find half the Winchester clan looming over him as he lay on his back in the grass...which looked considerably taller than he remembered. He couldn’t feel it half as well as he thought he should have been able to, either. Everyone looked like they were crowding around him a hell of a lot closer than they should have been able to, and when he tried to get up, he found out why. 

Light rust colored feathers interspersed with deep brown streaks were visible all down the front of his body, abruptly changing into a silver tinted dark blue over what little of his shoulders he could see, as well as the tops of the wings he definitely had in place of his arms. The undersides of said wings had the same brown striped rust coloring as his belly, and when he finally wiggled to his side to attempt to stand, he caught a glimpse of a black and white striped tail.

Standing on ridiculously long talons was far more awkward than he ever thought it would be, tipping over several times before managing to keep himself upright. He barely had time to contemplate just how small he actually was before he was unceremoniously picked up by Pamela, a startled squawk the only response he could muster, his wings beating uselessly against her hands as she brought him up to eye level. 

“Well, didn’t you turn out to be cute? A bit smaller than I expected, but then, merlins tend to be pretty small anyway, so probably not that surprising after all.” Pamela chuckled softly at Castiel’s confused head tilt, her grin turning from amused to scheming in the blink of an eye and entirely too reminiscent of Gabriel in that moment. “Ready to try out those pretty blue wings of yours?”

Without warning, Pamela tossed him as high as she could, his wings beating frantically the whole way up until he realized that he wasn’t exactly falling anymore. Any worries he may have had about learning to fly were quelled immediately as he seemed to be able to pick up the rhythm almost purely by instinct, climbing until he was well above the tops of the trees and able to get more lift from the unbroken breeze.

Castiel continued to fly higher just because he could, high enough that he could barely make out that there were people standing in the clearing below him, despite his dramatically improved sight. The Winchester lands seemed to stretch on for miles in every direction, no signs of human civilization in sight. Feeling bold from the adrenaline rush of his success, he climbed just a bit higher before tucking his wings in and free falling back down towards the clearing. The wind sang past him as he fell, picking up speed until he snapped his wings open at the last minute, looping smoothly over the clearing before gliding in lazy circles on the leftover momentum. Gliding clearly wasn’t the default method of flight however, as it wasn’t long before he was back to beating at the air with his wings, choosing to maintain his height instead of climbing higher again.

Castiel had never felt so free in his life, with the wind sailing past him and no limits to where he could go, what he could do. He could stay like this if he really wanted, for as long as he chose. The movement of small birds caught his attention frequently, and he fell into the simple rhythm of flight and chase, letting everything else in his life fall away, something to be considered later, when it felt relevant again. For now, all that mattered was the wind and his wings.

***

The sun was starting to set by the time he finally felt the need to return, his muscles aching with exertion. He hadn’t seen his mate since he had left that morning, and he was impatient to get back to him. Finding the clearing again was a simple matter, as his sense of smell was far stronger than it normally was, and even from this distance and height, the faint citrus spice of his mate was easy to pick out. As he came upon the clearing, he was surprised to see that there were still three people sitting outside the main house, watching the skies and waiting for his return. He carefully angled himself towards the figure he knew to be Dean, tucking his talons in as tightly as possible before aiming straight for Dean’s chest and barreling straight into him rather than attempting to land. Even as small as he was, he still sent Dean reeling backwards with a grunt, shifting back rather effortlessly and taking them down the rest of the way. He was still riding the high from his first flight, straddling Dean and leaning over to pull him into a passionate kiss, not coming back up for air until his lungs burned with the lack of it. Even then, he kept his forehead pressed against his mate’s, the grin he knew was plastered across his face mirrored on Dean’s.

The sound of Gabriel clearing his throat rather awkwardly finally pulled Castiel out of his reverie. He rolled off of Dean, splaying himself out flat on his back on the grass as he tried to catch his breath. His clothes were dropped on his face by his brother, who was pointedly not looking at the pair. Castiel sat up slowly, Dean helping him and holding him steady when exhaustion finally made itself known.

“Think I’m probably gonna sleep for a week after this,” Castiel mumbled, mostly to himself as he struggled into his pants.

“If you do, could you make sure it’s after we’ve gotten moved back into my house? My dad’s gonna kill me if I don’t soon.”

“I don’t care as long as there’s a bed.”

“Before you two go, I’d like to see you tomorrow morning, Cas. You’ve still got a week or two before your heat hits, and I’m gonna take a wild guess that y’all aren’t quite interested in kids yet. I’ll have your first dose of birth control ready by then, just make sure you take it when you’re supposed to. Your first shift went better than I expected, so as long as you feel fine in the morning, I don’t foresee any problems there. Shifting from here on out ought to be pretty easy, at least with some practice. Now, go get some sleep before you decide sleeping in the grass is a good idea.” Pamela waved them off with a wink, joining Gabriel on the porch before heading into the house.

***

Moving into Dean’s house was a relatively quiet affair. With everything already packed up from the day before, it only took a couple of trips in the early morning to clear out the cabin and drop their stuff off in the living room. Dean’s home wasn't large by any means, certainly not compared to the main house, but it was easily big enough for the two of them. The interior was simple, reminiscent of the furniture and decor of the main house, leaving Castiel to wonder if it was intentional or not. The kitchen doubled as a dining room, though it looked like the majority of it was used for prep and storage, rather than any actual cooking. The living room was sparsely furnished with the same wood and black leather as before, with a simple couch and a couple of chairs across from it and a simply made coffee table as the only furniture. There were two bedrooms adjacent to the living room, a short, simply decorated hallway connecting all three rooms. Dean led him into the room at the far end, opening the door to reveal a room that looked eerily similar to the cabin. The bed was large enough to comfortably fit three people and appeared to take up the majority of the floor space, with a dark, polished dresser and a nightstand as the only other furniture. 

Still worn out from the day before, Castiel took the invitation and promptly buried himself under the ample covers of the oversized bed, not even bothering to strip completely. It was entirely too early in the morning, and he didn’t have anything pressing to do until later. He figured it was plenty of time for a nap and he was going to take the opportunity. Exploring his new home in more detail could wait until later.

He was mildly surprised when he felt the mattress dip beneath the weight of his mate as Dean climbed in behind him and proceeded to wrap himself around Castiel. He rolled over to bury his face in Dean’s chest, breathing in the scent of his mate until he finally drifted off again.

He woke up again rather slowly, vaguely aware of a pair of hands roaming across his skin while soft kisses were pressed against his throat. He groaned softly at the feel of lips on his mating mark, grabbing his mate and pulling him on top of him. 

“I thought we could-christen the house today.” Dean grunted at a particularly hard bite to his shoulder, Castiel wasting no time in joining him. “I don’t have anything to do until later this afternoon, and I’m sure Pamela won’t mind you being late.”

Strong and surprisingly soft hands traveled their way down his chest, pausing just long enough to pull at the fabric of his pants. He lifted his hips, a soft gasp escaping his lips when his cock finally sprang free. 

“Gods, Cas, the things you do to me…” Dean kissed his way down Castiel’s belly, taking the time to nip at sharp hipbones before taking his cock to the base in one go, tongue running along the vein on the underside as he went. Castiel fought the urge to thrust up into the wet heat of Dean’s throat, hips twitching with the effort. Dean was relentless, setting a fast and brutal pace almost immediately, and it was an embarrassingly short amount of time before Castiel felt his orgasm build and crest. He came with a shout, head thrown back and neck bared in invitation. He felt Dean crawl carefully up the bed, taking the invitation and scenting him before biting and licking at the mating mark, teasing a litany of sounds from him. Dean ran a hand down his thigh, smearing the slick he hadn’t even noticed trickling down the back of his legs as his mate teased closer and closer to where he really wanted him. Castiel bucked into the touch, a barely audible gasp escaping his lips when Dean finally slid a finger into him, barely moving it, just teasing him with small, measured touches to his prostate. 

“Please,” Castiel gasped out when Dean increased the pressure, still refusing to do more, refusing what he really wanted. “Please, Dean. Stop teasing and just—ah—just fuck me!”

“Is that what you want me to do?” Dean whispered in his ear, sliding a second finger in with the first and finally setting a decent pace, crooking them on every other pass and sending sparks racing along his spine. 

“Yes! Dean, please. I need...need—” His sentence was cut short as Dean added a third finger, nibbling along his neck and undoubtedly leaving several marks behind.

“I got ya. I’m right here, Cas.” Dean whispered into his skin at the soft whimper he let out when Dean removed his fingers, watching in anticipated as Dean slicked up his cock with what was left on his hand. He pressed the head against Castiel’s entrance, rubbing it through the slick practically dripping from him before pressing in slowly. Dean set a slow pace to start, rolling his hips into Castiel in a steady rhythm. Castiel rose to meet every thrust, begging him to go faster, harder, anything to get him to really move. He could feel every inch as it slid in and out, picking up speed the harder he thrust against his mate. 

“So tight,” Dean hissed somewhere near his head, the haze of pleasure as he picked up speed making it difficult to focus. “So wet for me. So perfect for me, Cas.”

As if to emphasize his point, Dean abandoned his efforts to tease his mate, increasing the speed of his thrusts until he was pounding into Castiel. Dean’s knot was quick to form, pressing against his rim with every pass. 

“Let me knot you, please,” Dean growled against his neck, just barely holding back. At Castiel’s nod, Dean thrust in one last time, his knot catching and tying them together. Dean ground his hips down, pressing against Castiel’s prostate and forcing another orgasm from him.

When the fog cleared, Castiel found himself straddling Dean, his head resting on his mate’s chest. He looked up and smiled at Dean, leaning down to kiss him softly before burying his nose in Dean’s neck and breathing in the scent of content alpha.

***  
Castiel dozed off and on waiting for Dean’s knot to go down, jolting awake when Dean finally shifted away from him, stretching languidly before rolling to the edge and sitting up. Castiel smiled softly at the sight of his mate’s smooth skin and hard lines of muscle. He tried to bury himself back under the covers until Dean yanked them off with a smirk, leaning back over to kiss Castiel softly.

“We need to get up. I’ve gotta go talk to my dad and you’re supposed to go see Pamela this morning, though I’m pretty sure it’s probably closer to noon at this point.” 

“Don’t wanna. ‘S comfy here.” Castiel tried to drag Dean back down with him, letting out a startled yelp when Dean picked him up instead, slinging him over his shoulder effortlessly and smacking him on the ass when Castiel tried to wiggle back off towards the bed.

“Don’t care. We have things to do. Now come on and get dressed. I don’t mind if you run around naked, but I’m sure other people might.” 

Dean let him back down and pulled his clothes out from under the blankets, tossing them at him before turning to the dresser to dig out a set of his own, dressing quickly and waiting patiently for Castiel to finish. He threw his own clothes on as fast as possible, wincing a bit at the residual soreness. Foregoing shoes, he joined his mate waiting patiently at the door, following him down the hall and out into the entirely too bright late morning sunlight.

Pamela was waiting rather impatiently for them on the porch, glaring daggers at Dean as though he was the one to blame for them being late. Castiel opened his mouth to speak, silenced immediately by her.

“You are damn lucky I’m in a good mood this morning, boys. I was expecting you here a few hours ago. We’ve already got people arriving for the meeting your father called last week, and I still need to give Cassie here a once-over.”

At the mention of the meeting, Castiel felt everything turn to ice. He had almost forgotten about it in the excitement of yesterday, but all the apprehension he thought he’d sorted out over the last week came flooding back with a vengeance. Dean came up behind him, turning him around and burying his head in his mate’s neck. Castiel could scent Dean’s own nervousness, but beneath it was the subtle scent of confidence. It may not have eliminated his fears, but knowing that Dean was so calm about it was definitely helping.

“You know it’s going to turn out alright, right?” Dean lifted his head and looked into Castiel’s eyes, the confidence he’d been able to scent clearly visible there. 

“Yeah, I know. Just..still nervous I guess.” Castiel glanced over to Pamela, smirking to himself at the soft look in her eyes. “I doubt that’ll change anytime soon though, so shall we get to it?”  
At Dean’s nod, Castiel stole one last kiss before turning to follow Pamela, Dean following behind them into the house and heading down the long hallway just off the main room. Pamela led Castiel into the room she had been sharing with Gabriel when they had first been exiled, instructing him to sit on the edge of the bed and remove his shirt.

“Possessive little alpha, isn’t he?” Pamela grinned as she caught sight of all the marks dotting his neck and chest. “‘Course, anyone who isn’t dead could have smelled him on you. You may wanna wipe down before you head in there.”

Castiel could feel the flush creeping up his chest, but he couldn’t really deny that he smelled completely claimed, to be polite. He sat patiently, waiting for Pamela to finish poking and prodding at him, checking his eyes, pulse and breathing before declaring him perfectly healthy and able to try shifting again in a day or so. She pointed him in the direction of the built in washroom, where he found a towel and some soap and made quick work of stripping and cleaning all the important bits before tossing his shirt and pants back on and making his way back.

“Before you go, take this. You’ll want to take the first dose as soon as you feel your heat coming on, and the second dose as soon as it’s over. Don’t mix them up, don’t forget them. I wasn’t kidding when I said a mated heat would be completely different from what you’ve experienced so far, and you’re going to need them if you really don’t want to end up pregnant any time soon. I’ll make sure Dean gets the instructions too, just in case it hits faster than normal, okay? Now, you’d better get going. Don’t wanna make everyone wait too long.” With that, Pamela practically shoved him out the door, though not before pulling him into a hug, whispering that everything would turn out alright.

***

The meeting room was at the far end of the hall, the door left open for him. He shut it behind him, making his way to Dean’s side quickly, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself. Several people were already gathered around the large table in the center of the room, clearly waiting for his arrival as they took their seats one by one. John stood at the head of the table, Dean by his side and waiting patiently for Castiel to join him. Dean pulled a chair out for him, motioning for him to sit before taking a seat himself, glancing over at his father and nodding for him to begin.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. I know traveling so soon after the gathering isn’t preferable, but I felt this required immediate attention. As most of you know, my son recently mated Castiel, an omega from the Novak clan and Michael’s youngest brother. It has come to my attention that Michael has recently broken several of our laws, and as such, we need to decide what to do about it. Castiel, Gabriel, if you would be so kind as to show everyone here the first of his transgressions?” John glanced to the brothers, Castiel only just noticing that Gabriel had taken a seat on the other side of the table. He stood slowly, walking towards the head of the table with his eyes cast downward, nerves making him feel raw and exposed. He caught his brother’s eyes when they both stood before John, and at his brother’s silent cue, slowly removed his shirt and exposed his scars to the room.

There were a few barely audible gasps from the group, anger and an odd, sharp scent that he could only guess as shock steadily permeating the air. A glance at Gabriel told him that his brother was faring about as well as he was, though his scars were far fewer and well faded.

“Are those fresh marks on his back there?” A voice rang out from the back. Castiel had almost forgotten about the welts Michael had given him, and he slowly nodded before turning around to address the room.

“Michael was not pleased that I had chosen a Winchester. He had already sold me to the MacLeods, who had been told that I had agreed to it. I do not turn twenty one for a few more weeks, and was not made aware of such an arrangement. The rest of my scars are from his idea of behavior correction.” Castiel glanced at his mate, desperate for some kind of encouragement.

“He sold you? It’s been outlawed for over a century, how could he think he wouldn’t have been caught?” another voice called out from the back. From the sound of the accent, it was probably someone from one of the northeastern clans.

“Is there any proof that he did? That is a very serious accusation.” The southern drawl marked the alpha as one from the southern clans, probably the one near Texas from the sound of it. 

“Indeed there is, boys. I have the papers with me right here, and I am more than willing to speak against Michael. My son was very interested in Castiel, and we are both very upset that such an atrocity would be committed by one of our own.” Castiel stared up in shock at the heavy Scottish accent. Rowena stood in the doorway, Crowley at her side. The look he had as he raked his gaze over Castiel left him feeling thoroughly stripped, and he threw his shirt on as quickly as he could and made his way back to his mate, refusing to look either of them in the eye. All he could scent from them was the same harsh stench of deceit, and he wasn’t willing to look up and confirm it for himself. He wasn’t sure what they really had planned, but it couldn’t be good.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I even start, much as I hate to say it, updating this frequently will probably not happen very often. I was just inspired and felt the need to get more out. You might see one more chapter in the next couple of weeks before I absolutely have to focus on the project that I was *supposed* to be working on (believe it or not, this whole thing was supposed to be a tiny little side project to keep me occupied in between writing chapters for Feathers and Fur).
> 
> As always, beta'd by the ever lovely kittenbot. Feedback is what keeps me going, guys! Feel free to ask away, especially if I screwed up and contradicted myself somewhere.

“Indeed there is, boys. I have the papers with me right here, and I am more than willing to speak against Michael. My son was very interested in Castiel, and we are both very upset that such an atrocity would be committed by one of our own.”

The entire room fell silent as everyone turned to stare at Rowena and Crowley. Castiel could still smell the deceit rolling off of them, but beneath it the scent of what he could only describe as glee was fairly obvious. Coming from literally anyone else that would generally have been a comforting scent, but given the circumstances, it only made him feel nauseated. He leaned closer to Dean, trying to muddle their scents with that of his mate. The combination was making his nose itch, sneezing a few times before he managed to shake it and returning his attention to the rest of the group. Most of them were still staring at Rowena, only a few glanced at him with pitying looks before looking away quickly. 

“Rowena, if you would be so kind as to let everyone have a look at those? The sooner we come to a decision the sooner we can act on it.” John was watching her carefully, his gaze flicking from her to Castiel only for a moment.

“Just how are we supposed to know this is true? Isn’t Michael in a dispute with the Pellegrino omega over leadership of their clan?” The alpha from the southern clan looked thoroughly unconvinced, barely glancing at the papers before passing them off to the alpha on his left.

“With all due respect, sir, Lucifer is not interested in leading the clan. His only interest is in making sure that whoever is leading them is doing so responsibly.” Castiel looked the alpha right in the eye, unwilling to look weak despite the fact that all he wanted to do right that minute was bury himself in his mate’s neck and ignore the fact that anyone else was there.

“Gordon, we’ve known each other for decades. When have I ever done something like this without good reason? I may have only met the MacLeods a few times myself, but I see no reason for them to lie, and I certainly don’t see a reason for my son’s mate to lie.” John looked more than a little pissed at being questioned, and the alpha named Gordon appeared to decide that it was unwise to comment further.

“Cas, you don’t have to look at these if you don’t want to.” Castiel glanced up at Dean, the concern in his voice evident in his eyes. 

“It’s fine, Dean. Better to know than wonder.” He was sure he would probably regret it, but at the same time, he really did want to know what Michael wanted in exchange for his youngest brother. By the time the sale papers came around to him, he had already made a mental list of everything he thought Michael might possibly trade for him. He hoped that Michael had found him worth something relatively valuable at the very least. Looking at the papers didn’t help him any. His brother’s signature sat at the bottom in neat, looping letters, with Naomi’s small, simple script right beneath it. Rowena’s and Crowley’s signatures sat opposite them, virtually identical in style and size. It took him a few times of reading it for it to sink in, but there it was, plain as day. Michael had traded him for nothing more than an alliance with the MacLeods. Crowley would maintain control of the clan they currently led, and Rowena would travel to the Novak lands to aid Michael in leading them. The last paragraph made mention of his ability to shift, though only in passing and only as something to watch out for.

Blindly, he passed the papers to his left, staring holes into a spot on the table as he tried to let it sink in that he was literally sold for an alliance, one that had been mentioned to him a few times, though he never thought Michael could have done something like this at the time. He was vaguely aware of Dean’s arm around his waist, the weight and warmth a comfort he desperately needed.

“I think you’ll find the papers to be genuine, gentlemen. As you can see, it plainly states that poor Castiel was in full agreement with the arrangement, else I would never have been able to agree to it.” Rowena’s smile screamed disingenuous even from where Castiel was sitting, and while he wanted to call her out on it, he knew he couldn’t yet, not if he wanted to see this through. It didn’t matter how much he distrusted the MacLeods, their help was unfortunately necessary. Without them, there was no proof of the sale in the first place. Nobody would take the word of one omega and an exiled seer.

“I’d say that settles it then, at least for me. The Lafitte clan recommends exile.” Castiel stared up in shock at the alpha with a fairly obvious accent. He had been expecting Michael to be stripped of his title, maybe barred from Winchester lands, but exile? It was dangerous, occasionally fatal for the exiled. Generally, your memory was wiped with a complicated concoction and you were left just outside of the nearest city. Shifters weren’t really all that distinguishable from humans at a glance, but there were still humans who made it a point to hunt them, and someone with amnesia sitting just outside of a city was suspicious enough to attract hunters.

Most of the other alphas nodded or spoke their agreement, only Gordon and the alpha from the Pellegrino clan voicing a dissenting opinion. They both thought exile was far too harsh a sentence, though when pressed, neither could come up with a viable alternative. Castiel had been expecting this to take far longer to get through, maybe a few days at the very least. They hadn’t even been here an hour though, and the decision had been made. His brother was to be exiled. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

***

With the decision made and nothing left but to see it carried out, the alphas started filing out of the room one by one, most only looking at him with pity if they glanced his way at all. Castiel was not interested in their pity. He just wanted to see this done and over with. He stood with Dean, glancing around at the alphas as they made their way out the door and down the hall.

“Cas, you gonna be alright?” John caught his attention, a soft look of concern on his face.

“I should be, sir. I’m just ready for this to be over with.”

“You don’t have to call me sir, Cas. John is just fine.” His concern faded into affection as he motioned towards the door. “Shall we go? They’re all going to be here for a few days at the very least, and I need to send word to the Novak clan.”

Castiel and Dean went ahead of him, choosing not to stick around and make idle conversation. Most of the alphas were scattered around the lawn, talking amongst themselves as they made their way to one of the several cabins available for guests. They picked their way around the group, or at least tried to until an older alpha who identified himself as the leader of the Campbell clan called to Dean. 

“I’ll only be a bit, okay? Head on home, I’ll meet you there.” 

Castiel smiled and nodded, pulling Dean in for one last kiss before turning to head back home. He didn’t really feel as though any of what had happened had sunk in yet, his mind still blissfully blank as he picked his way across the clearing. He didn’t make it very far before he was pulled off to the side of one of the cabins. Fergus Crowley had him pinned to the wall, one hand holding him just below his throat. Crowley grinned at Castiel, the stench of his lust and frustration permeating the air around him and causing Castiel to cough on it.

“Why, Castiel, what a pleasure to see you.” Crowley raked his gaze over Castiel in much the same manner that he had back at the meeting, his lust overpowering his irritation for the moment. “I admit, I find myself curious as to why you chose that pup of an alpha over me. Just think, if you hadn’t, your brother might not have been sent to his death.”

Castiel pushed to get out of Crowley’s grip, but was cut short when the hand just below his throat inched up with every move he tried to make. He couldn’t help the growl that escaped him, his hands coming up to grip Crowley’s wrist as Crowley crowded him against the wall.

“I wouldn’t have chosen you if you held the knife to Michael’s throat.” 

“Such a shame, then.”

Crowley’s grip around Castiel’s throat tightened as the scent of anger steadily overtook everything else. He resumed his struggle to escape, nails digging into Crowley’s wrist and drawing blood before Crowley pried them off of him and pinned them above his head. Castiel was painfully aware that he wasn’t really able to breathe anymore, the edges of his vision ringed in black. Still, the moment Crowley stuck his head near his throat to scent him, Castiel twisted to bite him, succeeding in catching the outermost edge of his ear and biting clean through. Rather than let him go, Crowley only tightened his grip and bit down hard on the junction between shoulder and neck, nearly breaking the skin before he was ripped from Castiel altogether by a blur. He dropped like a rock, gasping for breath and choking on it as he rolled onto his back. 

He heard Dean threatening Crowley rather colorfully and with what sounded like some rather convincing physical arguments before he was surrounded by the scent and feel of possessive, worried alpha, whose hands, though covered in blood, were quite comfortingly running all over him, checking for any injury. Dean paused on the rapidly forming bruises on his throat and shoulder, a small whine escaping him before he came back to himself, helping Castiel sit up. Castiel was surprised to find himself shaking, though whether it was from adrenaline, fear or both, he couldn’t really tell. Crowley was nowhere in sight, the stench of him completely overwhelmed by everything that was Dean.

“Cas, are you okay? Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have had you go back alone, I should have—”

“Dean. It’s fine. Neither of us expected Crowley to be that bold. I’m fine. You’re fine. He’s gone. You can relax.”

“Cas, you’re shaking.” Dean helped him to stand slowly, pulling him flush against his chest.

“I know. Just adrenaline, I think. Let’s go home, please?”

***

Dean led them to a small pond behind the house, desperate to shed the stench and blood of Crowley from them, spending a fair portion of the afternoon just soaking and attempting to wash the events of the day from mind and body. Dean found himself growling at random sounds before coming back to himself and apologizing profusely for allowing his instincts to get the better of him. Castiel wasn’t completely sure why, but he didn’t mind the little displays of possessiveness nearly as much as he thought he should. 

“When I first presented, my dad told me being mated was going to be drastically different from anything I did unmated. I honestly didn’t believe him, but I’m starting to see what he meant.” They were floating near the bank, finally relaxed enough to drop their guard. Dean took a breath before continuing. “Before you there was this omega named Lisa, and I genuinely thought she’d be the one I wanted. Maybe I was just young and stupid, but she never once triggered anything instinctually, not the way you did. The way you do.”

“I was never told much of anything. Michael had already presented as an alpha when my parents died, and the only omegas around were a couple from other clans. There was Lucifer, I suppose, but we really didn’t get along very well in the beginning, probably a lot to do with my uncle. Even after he died, Lucifer was too busy trying to keep Michael from completely destroying the clan to actually teach me anything. I had already presented and Michael had decided that all I really needed to be told was how I was expected to behave. Even Pamela wasn’t much help in the mating department, being a beta herself on top of being a seer, it wasn’t something she could ever experience herself. She helped me where she could though.”

“So, before me, there was no one?” Castiel could hear the smirk in Dean’s voice, splashing him for his effort with a laugh.

“No, there wasn’t. Even if it had been allowed, I just wasn’t interested.”

Dean splashed his way up and over to Castiel, pushing them closer to the shore and carefully pinning him in the shallows.

“So I was the first one that interested you?”

“You could say that, yeah.” 

“Lucky me then.” Dean dropped his head to kiss Castiel, pulling away before it could get too heated. “Seriously though, I don’t understand how you’re not mad at me. I’ve never lost control like that before, and frankly it scares me a little.”

“I highly doubt you’d hurt me, Dean. Truth be told, aside from Gabriel, I’ve never exactly been anyone’s priority. It’s kind of nice, actually. You were protecting me, from another alpha no less. Nobody could find fault with that.” Castiel was not about to admit to Dean how his little displays of possessive behavior had him really feeling, and he was incredibly grateful that they were in the water at the moment. “That being said, can we take this inside? It’s getting a little cold and I don’t know about you, but a pond is not the best place for anything I have in mind.”

***

The next couple of days went by relatively quietly while they awaited the arrival of his brother. The reaction to Crowley’s assault had been expected, if a bit aggressive, and Rowena herself had publically chastised and banned her son from Winchester lands for his actions, and after that, there really wasn’t anything else to do except wait. After she gave him a rather thorough examination and determined any damage from the assault was temporary, Pamela had him working on shifting when they both had spare time, but otherwise he helped Dean out with whatever needed doing. Dean spent a fair amount of time in the makeshift garage, though when he wasn’t there he was out working with the livestock, or helping someone with repairs or additions to their homes. 

Castiel had been feeling odd ever since Crowley had cornered him, and he still couldn’t place exactly what it was. He was more nervous than usual, drinking water like he hadn’t seen it in days and feeling far more tired than he thought he ought to. With no other symptoms though, he chalked it up to the stress he was putting on his body by trying to shift so frequently. It didn’t occur to him what it could have been until he woke up in the early hours of the morning burning up, drenched in slick and whimpering as pain shot through his abdomen.

He shouldn’t have been due for another week or so, and though it had been unseasonably warm recently, odd weather patterns had rarely affected his cycle. It didn’t seem to matter much as he felt a fresh wave of slick soak his thighs and the mattress beneath him. He was shaking as he curled further in on himself, pressing as close to Dean’s sleeping form as possible in the hopes that his mate’s scent would calm something down long enough for him to get his bearings. It wasn’t awful yet, he hadn’t hit the point where he was absolutely desperate and he was incredibly grateful for that small bit of mercy. He still had a bit of time to try to relax and remind himself that this time would be different. His mate was right next to him, still snoring softly. He would get through this, he would be fine, he would—

“Cas?” He glanced up at the rough sound of Dean’s voice, vision blurring a bit when he moved too fast. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

“Heat. Not bad yet. Just unexpected.” Castiel dropped his head back down, his mate’s skin a cool balm to his overheated body.

“Shit, really? Okay, hang on. I’ll be right back.” Dean shot out of bed so fast Castiel barely had time to process that he had moved at all. He buried his face in the sheets, groaning quietly to himself when another cramp had him curling in on himself even further. He hadn’t even noticed the death grip he’d had on the sheets until Dean was back and trying to get him to roll over. A small clay cup was pressed against his lips the moment he managed to move, the water a sweet, cold relief. The small bottle that followed it however was filled with some godawful tasting stuff, something he assumed was one of the bottles Pamela had given him a few days ago.

“Made a kit up for your heat yesterday. Got a couple of water skins and some food. Didn’t think we’d need it this fast, but glad I did. Try to relax, okay? You’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you.” Dean set the cup on the floor by the small wooden crate Castiel hadn’t noticed him bring in, crawling back into the bed with him and pulling him to his chest. Castiel immediately pressed himself against Dean, his breathing evening out as he finally managed to relax against his mate. He still had a bit before his heat would truly hit hard, so for the moment he just took the opportunity to enjoy the feel of Dean pressed up against him.

He had almost dozed off again before a particularly harsh cramp dragged him back out of his haze, accompanied by a fresh wave of slick and the need he knew he was going to feel sooner or later. Pamela had been right, mated heats were far stronger than his average heat, though he couldn’t be too sure if it was just his imagination or not at that point. All he knew was that he needed Dean, badly enough that the whine he let out barely even registered to his heat addled brain. Dean woke up immediately, shushing him with gentle touches and soft kisses. He let Castiel roll over and present, refusing to take his hands off of him as he went. He knew Dean had to be affected by the scent of his heat, it was overwhelming to the point of it nearly being a solid thing. He was proven right when a few seconds later, without prompting from him, Dean had his sleep pants down and off, running his hands up and down slick soaked thighs. 

“Fuck Cas, kinda wish you could smell like this all the time.” Dean wasted no time moving in for a taste, tongue teasing at his entrance for only a moment before pressing in, lapping at the slick as it dripped and drawing another whine from Castiel. “Kinda wish you could taste like this all the time, too.”

The words vibrated against Castiel, gasping and pressing back in desperation. Dean resumed his task with renewed enthusiasm, practically drinking slick at that point and showing no signs of slowing down. Castiel struggled to find words between the shocks of pleasure and the moans they drew out, his voice cracking with the effort.

“Dean...please. I-I can’t...I need…” he panted out, arching his back when Dean nipped lightly at his rim.

“Anything you want, Cas. I’ve got you.” Without any further preamble, Dean lined himself up and slid home slowly, letting out a groan of his own as he bottomed out. Immediately he set a punishing pace, finally unable to deny either of them any longer. Castiel was a panting, wrecked mess, slamming back to meet each thrust with desperation, He practically howled when Dean’s knot started catching on his rim, coming hard enough to nearly black out when it finally caught. Dean carefully rolled them over to lay on their sides, reaching behind him to grab a still damp cloth from the nightstand next to the bed. The slight chill to it had him groaning in relief as Dean wiped him down carefully, an almost reverent feel to his movements. He pressed back into his mate, humming softly in satisfaction and already drifting off. His heats always left him exhausted, and the more sleep he got in between bouts, the better off he would be, especially if it was going to be as bad as promised. The last thing he was truly aware of was Dean whispering softly into his ear, one arm wrapped possessively around his waist and stroking the soft skin there.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as it pains me to take a break from Marked, it will probably be a bit before I update this again. Feathers and Fur (my partner project with ifitships_isits) is about to reach the crossover point, and my focus will be on it for a bit. 
> 
> (Mostly) beta'd by kittenbot. Any edits I missed will be fixed in the next couple of days.

Castiel woke up slowly, still groggy and disoriented from a lack of a regular sleep cycle. It had been four days since he’d woken up in heat. Four days since he’d been able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time, since he’d been able to eat more than a strip of jerky here and there before nausea kicked in and kept him from eating anything more. He knew Dean was worried, despite how many times Castiel reassured him that it was normal. He had already passed the worst of it, though there was still a day or two left before he would be feeling anything like himself again. He generally hated his heats, the feeling of being so disconnected from everything perturbed him. With Dean however, he felt far more relaxed. He didn’t have to suffer through endless waves of cramps and need without relief, he didn’t have to worry about ending up dangerously dehydrated (which had happened once or twice), or being left alone. His brothers could never stand to be around him in heat, though he couldn’t really blame them. He usually couldn’t stand to be around himself either.

This time, he wasn’t alone. Dean didn’t leave him for more than a few minutes, not after he took the time to send word to his father to explain why he was holing himself up for a few days. He almost seemed to be contemplating force feeding Castiel, worrying himself to death over his mate’s lack of appetite in between encouraging him to drink every time they had a spare moment. It was sweet, really. If this was an indication of how his heats would be going, he wouldn’t be complaining any time soon.

Feeling more awake than he had in some time, he crawled out of bed, ignoring the dull ache of overused muscles. He was desperate for an actual bath. As much as he appreciated Dean’s frequent wipe downs, there came a point in time where they just did not do the trick anymore. He felt sticky and filthy, and with a few hours left before his heat would flare up again, he was determined to get clean. He gathered the cleanest clothes he could find and some of the soaps and a towel left over from the cabin, smacking face first into Dean the moment he opened the door to the bedroom.

“Cas! You’re actually up! Good, I have something for you. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be out, so I cleaned out the tub out back and got a fire going. The water should be just about the right temperature by now. I figured you’d want a bath by now and while the pond is nice, it’s not nearly as nice as actual hot water.” Dean looked sheepish for a moment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “That is, if you’re feeling up to it. If not, it’ll still be there later, and it doesn’t really take that long to heat up—”

“Dean, it’s wonderful, thank you.” Castiel kissed him, though only for a moment. He could still smell a faint mix of heat, sweat and slick on his own skin and it was not exactly helping to keep his stomach settled. 

With a grin, Dean led him outside and around to the back of the house. There, next to a large fire with a metal pot sitting on a grate sat an absolutely gigantic white porcelain clawfoot tub. The bronze legs dug into the soft earth, hints of green appearing in the intricate details. The steam rising from the tub was inviting, and with barely more than a cursory check to make sure it wasn’t too hot, he had dropped his clothes on a nearby rock next to a towel Dean had already brought out and crawled into the tub. The water was just barely on the right side of hot, his skin reddening wherever it touched. He leaned against the back of the tub, unable to suppress a groan as he relaxed into the heat. The tub was more than big enough for two people, and he wasn’t all that surprised when he felt the water shift as Dean climbed in with him, too.

“The other pot’s got a bit to go before it’ll be hot enough, and by then this water will probably be cool enough that we’ll need it. In the meantime, just lay back and relax. I’ll take care of you.” Dean dipped a cloth in the water, soaking it before soaping it up and moving to straddle Castiel’s thighs. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as Dean started dragging the cloth over his skin, the gentle circular motions soothing him. The only sounds he could hear were the rhythmic sloshing of the water against the sides of the tub and a few birds calling to each other through the trees. He let out a soft moan when Dean made it to his groin, giving it the same slow, gentle attention as he had every other inch of him. His cock gave an interested twitch, hardening quickly when Dean abandoned the cloth on the side of the tub in favor of using his hands. He teased Castiel with slow strokes, running his thumb over the head and drawing a gasp from him. Dean pressed wet kisses along the side of his neck, nipping and sucking a bruise into the skin just above his claiming mark. Castiel could feel Dean’s own erection rubbing against his thigh, and without hesitation, reached down to return the favor.

Dean gasped into his neck, groaning as Castiel set a rapid pace without hesitation. He could feel Dean panting against his skin, picking up speed as his other hand slipped under the water to massage Dean’s rapidly forming knot. He was so caught up in all the little noises Dean was making that he almost didn’t notice the faint sound of someone walking up to their front door on the other side of the house. Dean came only a few strokes later, Castiel pushed over the edge as well at the sight of his mate coming undone above him. He sank lower into the water, pulling Dean down with him and basking in the afterglow.

“Dean? Dean, the Novaks are here and—oh. Oh! Uh…” Sam stopped short just after coming around the corner, a bright red flush creeping up his cheeks at the sight of his brother. Castiel chuckled softly, too relaxed and drowsy to care much about being caught. “Dad said he needed you to get over there now...Cas, you too, if you think you’re up to it.”

“M’kay Sammy. Be there...be there in a few.” Dean’s response was cut by a yawn, sitting up reluctantly. His brother wasted no time in retreating, leaving the two of them to climb out slowly and lazily, limbs unwilling to acclimate to movement so quickly. Dean took the time to dry Castiel off carefully, pressing kisses to damp skin as he went. They both got dressed just as slowly, neither in any hurry to go anywhere.

“Guess it’s time to face the music.” Castiel hadn’t really let himself think about Michael’s upcoming exile since Crowley had assaulted him, his words ringing a little too close to the truth. It was true that not many survived permanent exile, but he hadn’t really made that decision. He’d been expecting a temporary exile at best, and while he couldn’t really argue with it, the fact that it was still his own brother left a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought. Even so, a small part of him was relieved that after everything was said and done, he wouldn’t have to worry anymore. His brother wouldn’t be able to reach him, the MacLeods would be gone with no reason to return.

“Cas, you know you don’t have to do this. Hell, you’re still in heat. That’s a good enough reason not to go. You still smell pretty strongly, and what’ll happen if it flares up while we’re over there?” Dean looked worried, though Castiel highly doubted it was just because of his heat. 

“I’ll be fine. I promise. If I’m not, I’ll just come home and wait for you, okay?” Dean didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t offer an argument, either. Instead, he pulled Castiel into a tight hug, burying his face in his neck against the claiming bite. He buried his face against Dean’s in return, his nerves momentarily settled by the contact as he whispered against his mate’s skin, “I’ll be fine.”

***

They walked back to the main house slowly, neither in any particular hurry to see his brother again. Castiel was only mildly surprised to see half the Winchester clan accompanying the other clan leaders. Everyone was gathered together on the lawn, a short distance away from the same ancient blue Jeep that had brought him here in the first place. He stiffened a little at the memory. It had been just under a month ago that he had come here, fully expecting to be sent to the MacLeods following the Gathering. Momentarily pressing into Dean’s side for comfort, he shook off the uneasy feeling and moved forward with conviction. The group was gathered around three very familiar bodies, Naomi and Lucifer looking rather uncomfortable at being crowded by so many less than friendly faces. Michael himself stood tall, seemingly unfazed on the surface.

Without hesitation, Castiel pushed his way through the crowd, finding and taking his place by John and Missouri standing just inside the rough circle. Dean was right behind him, a hand on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

“Good to see you again, little brother. I can smell the heat on you from here. That eager to see me again? Couldn’t even wait until it was over? I didn’t know you cared so much.” Michael’s cold gaze was directed on him, stirring up some rather unpleasant memories. 

“Michael Novak, you have been called here to answer for the crimes you have committed against your own family. The accusations brought against you are numerous, the most prominent being the sale of an underaged omega against his will and without his consent. For this alone, the clans have deemed permanent exile a fitting punishment. Do you have anything to say in your defense?” John’s voice was hard and cold, the look on Michael’s face a close match.

“Is that what you were told?” The smile on Michael’s face was enough to unsettle just about anyone, though Castiel was surprised to find that it didn’t quite hold the same effect it used to have on him. “You have no proof. Unless you count my little bitch of a brother’s word as proof enough. Frankly, he was always a problem child. I wouldn’t put much merit in what he says.”

“I have the sale papers right here, believe it or not. However, as a gesture of good faith, and as a chance for you to prove your innocence, you are free to give your side of the story.” John was completely indifferent to Michael’s confidence, and while allowing Michael to speak was more of a formality at this point, Castiel did have a few questions he wanted answered. 

“John, let me question him.” Castiel wasn’t quite sure why he asked, beyond a deep seated need to know, above all, why his brother had been incapable of seeing him as little more than property to be sold. John didn’t look entirely convinced, but he stepped back with a nod all the same. Without hesitation, he stepped forward to face his brother, finding security in knowing that his mate was still standing behind him.

“When did you sell me?” 

“I would hardly call it selling you. You would so readily agree to anything I asked.” The smirk on Michael’s face was almost enough to incite the rage Castiel had been burying for weeks.

“When?”

“Persistent, aren’t we? Since you all seem to have made up your mind, I guess there’s no real harm in telling you everything, is there? I sold you when you were fifteen. You presented as a true shifter and I saw the opportunity to secure my position and took it. Rowena was quite amenable to the arrangement, of course. Only had to convince her that you were just fine with the idea, wait until you were of age to hand you over. Had to make it look legitimate, after all. Not that she cared if you were willing, but it looked better if you were.”

“Why would you sell a member of your own family?”

“I do believe you already know the answer to that, my dear brother. Rowena promised me a position of power and I took it. I had no need of anything else. She guaranteed exactly what I wanted.” The cool indifference shifted into something resembling glee, and Castiel could feel his gut slowly turning to ice. “Oh, the look on your face, Cassie. Hmm. You were in heat that night too, weren’t you? The night you disobeyed my orders to avoid the Winchesters. I’d bet you’d fall to your knees just as quickly as you did then, too. So desperate to please, even at your own expense. Tell me Castiel, would you still be so obedient for me, even now?” 

“Do you have anything else to say in your defense?” The rage Castiel has been desperately trying to suppress is dangerously close to breaking free, the urge to rip into his own brother both pressing him on and disgusting him. Familial loyalty was warring with self preservation, and he was more than afraid that the latter would win out before this was over.

“Not really in my defense, but I would do it all over again if it meant I got what I wanted.” Michael laughed outright then, cold indifference abandoned completely. He walked right up to Castiel, pausing only inches from him. “Are you going to submit to me, little brother? Show me just how obedient a bitch you really are?”

A growl erupted from Dean as he made to step around Castiel, the scent of his rage strengthening by the moment. He considered just stepping aside and letting Dean tear into Michael like he clearly wanted to do, but as satisfying as the thought was, there were far less violent methods to bring his brother down. He couldn’t help the small chuckle when Naomi visibly flinched at Dean’s display, Michael’s smug attitude dissipating rather quickly when Castiel didn’t immediately obey.

“Forgive me brother. I seem to follow a different alpha these days. He’s far more persuasive than you were, and while I could put a joke about his carrot being bigger than your stick, it just isn’t becoming of a civilized omega. I suggest you do your best to hold your tongue Michael, for I doubt I can hold Dean back if he truly decides you aren’t worth him keeping his temper in check.” Castiel straightened and stood at his full height, looking Michael right in the eye and refusing to glance away. The relief that flooded his system at the lack of need to obey like so many times before was almost tangible. The feeling of Dean at his back, a solid weight reminding him he wasn’t alone this time was probably the only thing keeping him from breaking eye contact with Michael; but either way, it at least looked like it had shaken him a bit.

“Dean.” John’s voice had him turning to look at the older alpha, having almost forgotten that he was even still there. “Control yourself. No need to threaten violence. I think we’ve all heard enough as it is. Take Castiel home. I can smell his heat from here, and I’m sure it’s not helping matters any.”

“I’m fine, John. A little warm, but fine. He is my brother, it’s only fair that I see the sentence carried out.” Truth be told, he was starting to feel a bit shaky, but he would be damned if he didn’t see this to the end.

“If you insist. Missouri, would you do the honors? I believe our choice has been made for us. Michael, may you find the sympathy in your new life that you could not manage to garner here.” Two alphas moved to either side of Michael, forcing Castiel to step back a bit or risk being run into with the sudden commotion. Michael barely fought back, going to his knees easily when prompted. Naomi looked away, her face pale, expression unreadable. Lucifer looked on, the grim determination clearly visible in his eyes closely mirroring Castiel’s own feelings. Missouri stepped forward, uncapping a small brown-tinted apothecary bottle when one of the alphas holding Michael down tilted his head back and held it still. It wasn’t until Missouri was standing in front of him that he seemed to realize what was about to happen to him wasn’t a joke as he started struggling futilely against the alphas still holding him down.

“Now hon, I suggest you make this easier on yourself. It’s gonna happen one way or the other, and I promise I’m a whole lot nicer than these fine boys here. Now, do everyone a favor and settle down. It’ll be over soon enough.” Even Missouri’s calm words weren’t enough to settle Michael, who only struggled harder against the men holding him. The alpha on his right immediately gripped his hair roughly, pulling Michael’s arm behind him at what had to be an uncomfortable angle. Michael stopped fighting almost immediately, slumping against his handlers in defeat. He grimaced at what had to be an awful taste as Missouri upended the bottle into his mouth, swallowing obediently when she glared at him.

The effects only took a few moments to become visible, the concoction acting more as a tranquilizer than anything, at least initially. Michael swayed where he kneeled, listing to the side before he was righted again by the alphas still holding him, though at this point, their presence was more to keep him from keeling over into the dirt. Castiel couldn’t help the knot forming in his gut as he watched his brother slowly fade into unconsciousness. Without prompting, the alphas still holding him picked him up carefully, setting him in the back seat of the nearby Jeep, careful not to jostle him too much. It was over, and yet Castiel still found himself at war with his own emotions. It was too late to do anything; when Michael woke up he wouldn’t even remember his own name, let alone anything he had done or who Castiel was. Even so, a lingering sense of familial loyalty left him feeling regret, even if it was easily overwhelmed by the relief he felt at the knowledge that it was over for good. 

Naomi and Lucifer climbed into the Jeep along with the two Winchester alphas, slowly driving down the path to the nearest populated down to leave Michael to whatever fate would become of him. As the ancient blue vehicle disappeared into the trees, Castiel let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. Dean was immediately at his side, offering what comfort he could as they both watched on. 

“Can we go back now?” Castiel flinched at the crack in his voice, his heat threatening to become overwhelming in a hurry. Dean really hadn’t helped any with his little power display, and the scent of citrus was currently driving him insane. He hadn’t bothered trying to pay attention to anyone’s emotions, unwilling to subject himself to whatever Michael had been feeling. As a result, the relief and lingering protective aggression he could still smell on Dean was starting to affect him in ways he’d rather not let half the clan see. With a nod to his father, Dean quickly led Castiel away, back home to drown the lingering feelings of guilt in affection and reassurance.

***

Castiel’s heat ended a couple of days later (the second bottle Pamela had given him tasted no better than the first), much to both his and Dean’s relief. The residual soreness lasted for days, after which he resumed helping Dean with whatever needed to be done, at least until John suggested going on hunts with some of the younger shifters in the clan. Summer had been well under way, the deer and squirrels were fat and plentiful and he had spoken to Dean more than once about joining some of the alphas on their regular trips into the forests surrounding the clan. Having never been allowed to before, both John and Dean agreed that starting off on smaller ‘practice’ hunts was the best way to learn the ropes before any of the more serious hunts took place in the fall. 

He used it as an excuse to work on shifting on the move, going from tree to tree in the merlin’s skin before dropping down for the kill in his own. He went every chance he got in between heats, generally sticking to smaller game, even killing a few without shifting back. Birds seemed to be a particularly easy target with this method, more than a few pheasants and grouse falling victim over the summer. He continued hunting them well into the late fall, planning on joining the others in one of the bigger hunts they had planned later in the month. They had been kind enough to postpone it long enough for him to get through his last heat of the season, and he was determined to make sure he was well prepared.

He had already caught a pair of smaller pheasants on this particular hunt, one of the last ones before the alphas would be gearing up for the fall hunt. Snow had already fallen, making it relatively easy to track, particularly from his aerial view. When he came across a set of tracks belonging to a small mule deer, he couldn’t help but follow it. Alerting the others with a shrill cry, he took off through the trees, dropping to the ground and shifting as soon as he had the deer in his sight. It was still some distance away, far enough that someone would be able to bring him his bow before the deer was aware they were there, at least if he hadn’t flown too far ahead of them.

The only sound he could hear was the quiet footsteps of someone approaching him from behind. Assuming it was one of his hunting mates, he paid little attention, keeping his eyes on the deer still casually grazing off in the distance. When the footsteps stopped directly behind him with no further movement, he finally got curious enough to glance behind him, far too quickly to catch who it was.

“Hand me my bow, would you? I doubt he’s going to be sitting there for much longer.” Castiel was growing impatient, determined to prove that he was capable of bringing down more than a few birds.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” The voice was completely unfamiliar to him, nasally and practically oozing with malice. “I think you’ll find you have far more important things to be worrying about.

Something heavy connected with the back of his skull just as he turned around to see who was really behind him, and while it wasn’t quite enough to knock him out, it was enough to send him sprawling face first into the snow-packed dirt. Everything was spinning, he couldn’t get his bearings in time before another blow had him blacking out completely. The last thing he could make out was his blood staining the snow and the face of his attacker, looming over him as he quickly lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for leaving it at this point. I promise, the next chapter is well worth the wait.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is the low point of the story. I promise, there won't be too much more angst after this. Cowritten by a friend of mine (who sadly isn't on AO3) who happens to be a bit of a torture porn addict and can write it far better than I can.
> 
> As always, beta'd by the ever-patient kittenbot, who's somehow managing to help keep my sanity in this.
> 
> For the record, the next chapter is written, but no, I'm not posting it for a week. Figured y'all would need some time to let this chapter sink in first.

The first thing Castiel was aware of was the sharp, steady throb of his skull in time with his pulse. Pain radiated along the back of his head and neck with every beat, and for a moment he wondered if his skull was broken. He didn’t think there had been any dangerous terrain where he was, certainly not dangerous enough to have fallen and bashed his skull in on a rock like that. Except, how exactly it had happened was very fuzzy. A voice kept drifting in and out of his memory, occasionally loud enough to sound like it was right next to him. It didn’t smell right either; old wood and stale air mixed with the scents of unfamiliar shifters. Focusing too hard on any of it caused his head to pound, far worse than it was already. Instead, he simply stopped trying to focus on anything and just let himself drift.

A hand on his shoulder prevented him from drifting very far. He flinched away from it on instinct, jarring his skull and letting out a weak, muffled cry at the renewed bursts of pain. He clenched his eyes shut, desperate for the pounding to stop.

“I told you to bring him to me alive and unharmed. This doesn’t look like unharmed, Alastair. You didn’t break his skull, did you? I’m not going to be happy if I have to wait for something like that to heal before I can begin.” The voice sounded familiar, with an odd accent that definitely didn’t fit anybody he knew from his clan. Alastair wasn’t a familiar name either, though he could swear he had heard it before. 

“I checked it on the way over here. He’s all in one piece, though I’m sure he’s probably got a small concussion. Nothing serious to worry about.” The nasally voice from before jarred his memory, enough to remember that it was a rock being held by someone that had brought him to this point, not a bad step. Wherever he was, he doubted anyone from the Winchester clan knew about it.

“Castiel? Open your eyes for me. I know you can hear me.”

That voice. It was entirely too familiar, one he’d only heard a few times and yet it still didn’t hesitate to send chills down his spine. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to try to bring the dimly lit room into focus. Even with the poor lighting, it stung to look around much, and when he tried to take in too much at once, nausea crept up on him, forcing him to close his eyes again and take a few deep breaths before it would subside. When he opened his eyes the second time, he was able to look around without feeling like he was going to be sick.

The first thing he noticed was a single small light bulb hanging from a wooden beam crossing the ceiling. It barely gave off enough light to see by, leaving the weathered stone walls supported by a network of beams in shadow for the most part. He followed the single wire that led from the bulb to where it disappeared through a door on the other side of the room. Just across from him sat an ancient mattress, and a bucket with chains hanging from one side right next to it. Standing in the center of the room was none other than Crowley, accompanied by a rather unpleasant looking man that Castiel could only assume was Alastair. Slowly, he tried to sit up, stopping short when he realized he was strapped to a small, wooden table, leather straps crossing his chest, wrists and ankles.

“Sorry about that, love. Couldn’t have you raising a fuss just yet. My mother wanted to get a good look at you while you're awake before deciding what to do next.” Crowley walked over to his side, sporting a small grin when Castiel tried to shy away from him uselessly. He struggled against the straps harder when Crowley bent over him, freezing completely when he felt a hand slip around his neck as Crowley moved to whisper in his ear. “I’d consider cooperating, if I were you. You won’t like it much if you don’t.”

“Fergus! I told you not to antagonize him. I’m sure he’ll behave, won’t you Cassie?” Rowena’s voice rang painfully in Castiel’s ears, and the feeling of dread that had been creeping in the back of his mind was quickly turning to panic. “Just do as you’re told and we won’t have to resort to more...drastic measures.”

Rowena walked over to Castiel, loosening and removing the strap across his chest. Belatedly, he realized he had been stripped completely naked, which only served to increase the panic that was threatening to take over. He shut his eyes as he felt her running her hands over his bare skin, pausing on the inked wolf and falcon just under his sternum.

“Well, it doesn’t look like any permanent damage was done. I told you to be careful with him Alastair. Careful is not bashing him in the head with a rock.” Rowena’s hand traveled further down, tracing some of the dots and tear marks on his abdomen. “I wonder...look at me, Castiel. If I undo the straps and ask you to shift, will you? Remember, it’s in your best interest to do as asked.”

With a shaky nod, Rowena removed the straps from his limbs, helping him to sit slowly before standing back and waiting with a less than patient look on her face. He took a deep breath, trying his best to focus on the feeling of shifting, and not his current situation. Slowly, the familiar pinpricks traveled along his skin as he closed his eyes in anticipation of the bright flash that tended to accompany his shifts. He felt the slight pinch that always came with shifting, and opened his eyes again, expecting to see everyone looking down at him.

“Oh, now that is interesting. Well, that answers my question. I’d like you to stay that way for now, Castiel. The look suits you.” Castiel stared at her curiously before glancing down at himself, nearly jumping off the table in shock.

He was still completely himself, save for long, black tipped claws where his nails should have been. When he moved to examine them closer, he felt extra weight on his back that definitely shouldn’t have been there. Sprouting from between his shoulder blades were two large wings, maybe about ten feet each and covered in the deep blue and rusted tan his merlin shift usually sported. He’d never managed a partial shift before, never able to get the hang of focusing on shifting only parts instead of the whole. There was no reason he should be able to do it now, and he couldn’t remember if Pamela had told him anything about doing it unintentionally or not.

“What are we going to do about that, then? It’s the Winchester’s spawn, there’s no way it isn’t. Wouldn’t it be better to get rid of it? Might be able to catch his last heat cycle if we—”

“Are you insane, Fergus?” Rowena interrupted Crowley, a look of consternation on her face. “Who cares whose it is? The odds of it being a true shifter are the same either way. This is a good thing. It stays. Might make training him a bit more difficult, but if Pamela’s half the seer she’s supposed to be, that mark on his belly is pretty strong. Still, might be best not to test it too much.”

Realization hit him all at once as he curled in on himself, sliding across the table until his back was to the wall, knees drawn up to his chest as he tried to control his breathing. They couldn’t be serious. He’d been careful, there was no possible way she was right. He had just shifted fully yesterday with no issues. She’d just lost it; which, to be fair, made plenty of sense given where he was currently sitting. Of course, that just made the situation even worse. If she was wrong, he would be due for his heat within a few days, and he was more than a little afraid of what that might entail.

A hand on the side of his face startled him out of his reverie, his wings smacking painfully into the rough wall behind him as he flinched away from it. Rowena just kept her hand on his face, forcing him to look at her.

“Look at you. Still so innocent. It’ll be a shame to see you lose it. Do yourself a favor, sweetie. Don’t fight. Whether you like it or not, this is where you were always going to end up, and the sooner you accept it, the easier things will be for you.”

“No.” Castiel hadn’t even realized he had yet to say a word since he woke up here, but he didn’t feel his response required much. Like hell would he go quietly. She’d have to kill him before he would ever willingly submit. Rowena glared at him for a moment before straightening up and walking to the door, not bothering to look back once.

“Alastair, nothing permanent. Don’t damage the marks. Try not to risk his condition, it’ll be worth more than he is if we’re lucky. Just give him a reason to reconsider and leave him to think about it for the night.” With that, she left, Crowley seeing her to the door before shutting it and turning back around, a malicious glint to his eye as he approached Castiel.

“Here I thought you might have been smarter than that. No matter. Teaching you your place ought to be fun. Now, I do believe I owe you for that little bite you gave me the last time we saw each other.” Without further warning, Crowley grabbed for his wrist, grunting in pain when Castiel dug his claws into his forearm before Alastair crowded his other side, prying his free hand from Crowley’s arm and twisting it back until he stopped fighting, instead trying to twist with it before it snapped. He was pulled off the table, landing face first on the hard rock floor as Crowley let go and let him fall. Immediately, Alastair was straddling his back, pulling his arm back into a painfully awkward position. His wings were splayed out to either side of him, feathers rustling softly as he tried and failed to hold them still.

“Are you going to submit?” Alastair’s nasally voice grated on his already raw nerves, and before he could even get a breath to speak, the hand on his arm tightened and bent his forearm with unnatural strength and an audible snap that rang out in the small room. The breath he’d been trying to pull in was forced out in a rush as pain shot up his arm. He could feel the broken ends of his bones grinding together as Alastair carelessly admired his handiwork and he nearly bit a hole through his lip in an effort not to scream. 

Alastair let his arm go in favor of grabbing one of his quivering wings, running a hand down it almost reverently as he slowly pulled it back. Castiel didn’t dare move, not when every breath sent another shock of pain up his arm. His other wing was quickly pulled back with the first, pulling him up to his knees with an aborted cry of pain as Alastair stood, one wing in each hand and the unspoken threat of another snapped bone in the subtle pressure that increased every time he twitched. He cradled his injured arm carefully, fully aware they weren’t done yet. He couldn’t help the violent flinch when Crowley moved to stand in front of him, quickly looking down at the floor.

“Look at me.” When he refused to move, the hand on his left wing tightened threateningly, slowly twisting his wing at the joint until the pain forced him to look up before it was dislocated completely. “There’s a good boy. Since it’s your first night here awake and aware, we’ll go easy on you. Nothing serious, just enough to make it a very painful idea to try and escape. You should have cooperated. This next bit wouldn’t have been so bad.”

Castiel barely had time to contemplate the glint of silver in Crowley’s hand before it was buried in his left thigh, blood immediately running down his leg to slowly pool on the floor around his knee. He jerked back away from the pain, straight into Alastair, who finished twisting his wing out of its socket with a small laugh. This time he did scream, a harsh, painful cry that was cut short when a fist connected with his sternum, knocking the air out of him with a harsh wheeze.

“That was for what Winchester did to me.” Another hit connected with his face, splitting his lip and knocking his head to the side. “That was for denying me in the first place.”

Everything after that was a blur of pain and blood and motion, sometimes a fist, sometimes a blade. It felt like hours before he was finally tossed unceremoniously onto the small mattress on the other side of the room. His head spun, blood dripped down his forehead into his eyes. His left side felt like it was on fire, every small move jarring his rapidly swelling limbs. He was barely aware of Crowley and Alastair still standing over him, a quiet whimper escaping his lips when a boot connected with his aching ribs one last time.

“Send Meg in to clean him up before Rowena sees him. Can't have him looking too rough for her.” Crowley dismissed Alastair, kneeling down by Castiel’s head as the soft thud of footsteps faded. A hand gripped his hair and yanked his head up until he was facing Crowley. 

“I suggest you rethink your little defiant streak. Tomorrow won’t be nearly as pleasant for you otherwise.” With that, Crowley shoved his head back down onto the mattress before standing and walking out the door, leaving Castiel alone in the poorly lit room.

Once the silence had settled over him and his head had stopped spinning, he was able to take stock of his injuries. Aside from his wrist and wing, most of it felt rather superficial. His face and ribs were littered with bruises. Most of the cuts were shallow, made to bleed rather than maim, and most of them had stopped bleeding for the most part. Even so, he was exhausted, aching and worried. If Rowena was right, he had to escape, and the sooner the better. He had to make it back to Dean. He could only hope an opportunity would present itself before it was too late.

The sound of the door opening and closing again jerked him out of the slight daze he had fallen into, though he was too tired to bother trying to move away from whoever had come to stand in front of him. Better to save what strength he had and not fight them.

“Well, shit. They left you a mess, didn’t they?” The intruder’s voice definitely sounded female, and when he looked up, he saw the face of a short, long-haired brunette girl, a bucket and rags in one hand, a thin, well-worn blanket in the other. She knelt down beside him, running a hand down his shoulder carefully, pausing when he flinched. “Easy, angel. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just supposed to get you cleaned up and looking presentable for Loud and Ginger. Just try to relax, I’ll go slow. Might need you to sit up, though.”

With a little effort and a lot less pain than he anticipated, they managed to get him sitting. She ran the cloth over his skin carefully, leaving his wrist for last. As she went, he contemplated ways to escape, though without a clue where he was, it didn’t look terribly hopeful. By the time she was done, he was half asleep, exhaustion quickly winning over the need to figure a way out. As she tossed the rag into the bucket of blood tinged water, he grabbed her wrist, careful to keep his claws away from her skin.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing, angel. The name’s Meg, by the way. I don’t think I caught your name.” Meg set the bucket down near the mattress, walking over to the door and listening for a moment before returning to him quickly. “Listen. I know what Rowena’s got planned, and while I didn’t believe it at first, I didn’t believe you actually had wings either. If you can hold it together for one more day, I think I can get you out of here. Just do what they ask, especially around Alastair. I wouldn’t trust him not to go too far, and I’d rather not be carrying you out in pieces. I’ll be back for you tomorrow night.”

“Castiel. It-it’s Castiel.” He tried to speak through a yawn, wincing when his ribs protested the sudden movement. “Please hurry.”

“Will do, angel. Just hang in there for me.” Meg left the worn blanket next to him on the bed before grabbing the bucket and disappearing behind the door. Castiel carefully lowered himself down on the musty smelling mattress, pulling the blanket with him slowly and struggling to find a position that didn’t put pressure on anything too seriously injured. Even with every move radiating pain somewhere along his body, he didn’t take long to drift off into a fitful sleep, thoughts of Dean and home the only thing that could distract him.

***

All too soon he was jerked awake by the sound of the door opening and slamming shut again, Crowley’s voice echoing in the small space. His head was still pounding, and the rough accent wasn’t helping in the least. Slowly, he opened his eyes, sitting up stiffly when he realized Crowley had stopped in the middle of the room and was looking at him expectantly.

“Think you might have changed your mind? I’d almost hate to have to give you a repeat lesson, though I’m sure Alastair would love a chance. He does tend to get carried away though, so I wouldn’t recommend you push it.” Crowley walked over to him, grabbing him by the jaw and forcing him to meet his eyes. “Don’t think that I would care much, either. Far as I’m concerned, you're just my mother’s pet. A warm hole to fuck if I get bored, nothing more.”

Castiel didn’t speak, unsure if he could even if he tried. He knew he was trembling, fear and rage leaving him unable to think of what he was supposed to do next. He wanted to rip Crowley to shreds, but he had little doubt that he would be killed for it, if not worse. He had to wait, at least until tonight. Even if Meg was lying and wasn’t actually intending on helping him, he had to try. 

The hand on his jaw released him, Crowley eying him with an unreadable expression. He grabbed Castiel by the shoulder, knocking him off balance and roughly pressing him face first into the mattress. He barely managed to get his arm out of the way before he fell, facing away from Crowley and closing his eyes in hopes that it might be over faster that way. Fear won out over rage as he felt Crowley’s hand tracing the bones of his wing, pinching at a feather every so often. His wing hadn't been popped back into place since Alastair had twisted it out the night before, and every move Crowley forced it to make had him grinding his teeth in an effort to stay silent.

“Bet I could get a good price for these. Plenty of people willing to pay for unique trophies, and for wings like these? I’ll bet they’d sell their souls. It’s not like you really need them, after all.” Crowley pulled on a single feather until it came free, forcing a whine from his throat. It hurt more than he thought it would, the jerk of the feather pulling loose jarring the already injured wing. “Look at you, shaking like a leaf. It will be far too easy to break you.”

“I would hope so. Fergus, stand him up. Let’s see if he’s changed his mind about doing as he’s told.” Castiel hadn’t even heard Rowena enter the room, and her presence was anything but a relief, even if it meant Crowley wasn’t manhandling his wing anymore. He was roughly pulled up by his shoulders, dragged forward on his knees until he was off the mattress before being jerked upwards. He almost buckled under his own weight when he finally made it to his feet, thigh throbbing sharply as he tried to gingerly put more weight on it. Crowley caught him quickly, forcing him to stand upright and holding him until he was more or less steady. He kept his arm carefully cradled against his chest, his damaged wing hanging limply against his back. The room seemed to tilt a bit, the world spinning slowly as he stood.

“Well, what do you think, Cassie? Ready to do as you’re asked? Give me the right answer and you might get to leave this room in a few days.” Rowena watched him carefully, keeping her distance for the moment.

“You mean am I ready to be nothing more than a broodmare?” Castiel’s voice sounded rough, even to his own ears. “The answer to that will always be no. I’m not some dog to be bred for your amusement.”

“Suit yourself. You’ll be begging for it soon enough. Alastair will be in shortly. Try to keep the noise down, will you? I’ve got some things to do, and I don’t need you distracting me.” Rowena turned and left, Crowley following right after her.

He didn’t have long to wait before Alastair walked into the room, a roll of leather tucked under one arm and a small wooden stand carried under the other. Castiel watched him warily as he set the stand by the wooden table, unrolling the leather on the worn surface. Pristine silver-tipped blades and tools sat neatly in little pockets, some basic, others twisted, wicked looking things. Alastair picked up a short, simple looking knife before walking over to Castiel. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of the blade, taking shaky steps back until he was pressed painfully against the wall. Alastair took the opportunity to pin him with one hand pressed hard against his collarbone, the other lightly dragging the knife down his chest.

“Such pale skin. Makes your blood stand out so prettily.” Slowly the knife dragged lower, not even breaking the skin, only leaving the ghost of the sharp edge in its wake. “Rowena may just have to get herself a new pet. I’m afraid something as fragile as you is just too easy to break permanently.”

Castiel barely had time to comprehend what was happening before the blade was tracing a path across his abdomen, a buried instinct roaring to life at the threat. He lunged forward, shifting to the side of the knife as his claws found their mark in Alastair’s throat and ripped. The spray of blood caught him in the face, but he barely noticed as he dug his claws deeper, cutting through tendon and artery. He threw his weight against Alastair, his good wing fighting to keep his balance as he pulled them both down. Alastair was choking on his own blood, the thick red liquid bubbling where his trachea had been torn open. Dimly, Castiel was aware of a sharp pain in his side, the knife clattering to the floor uselessly as Alastair slowly stopped fighting him. He didn’t hear the door open, nor did he see the figure moving swiftly towards him before something connected with the side of his head and everything went black.

***

Castiel slowly pried open his eyes as he slowly came to consciousness. He found it to be a surprisingly difficult task. One eye had been crusted over with dried blood, the other swollen nearly shut. Gingerly, he lifted his head as the faint sound of voices started to replace the ringing in his ears, just in time to hear a simpering voice above his head.

“Oh, look who’s awake!” Rowena purred. Castiel winced, her voice causing involuntary shudders throughout his aching body. He tried to move but quickly realized he was bound to the table. Looking in the direction her voice came from, he discovered she was standing over his right wing with her hand resting on the arch ever so softly. “I warned you what would happen if you failed to cooperate. Alastair was a very important ally, and not one that I can easily replace.” Her grip suddenly tightened on the joint of Castiel’s wing. “That type of behavior is unacceptable and must be met with immediate discipline.”

As she finished speaking, she took the joint roughly in both hands and twisted them. A loud pop echoed throughout the room as the wing jerked back into Rowena’s face and then fell limply to the floor as Castiel let out a raspy scream. The witch stood there with a look of rage painting her features dark for a moment before moving to stand face to face with Castiel.

“Fergus! Bring me the little bottle! You know the one.” She gripped the omega by his hair and yanked his drooping head up at an awkward angle to face her.

“Oh, I’m going to make you regret that.” At this point Crowley reached out and handed her a small brown glass bottle. “Hold his nose, Fergus.” She slammed Castiel’s head back against the table and forcefully jammed the bottle between his lips. He held out as long as he could, but with how much pain he was in and how weak he was, it was mere seconds before the muddy tasting liquid slid down his throat with a sputtering cough. 

“Don’t worry about it, darling. It’s only a mild paralytic. Should wear off before tomorrow.” She chuckled as she glided to the door. She flicked her hand up in a quick wave. “Now remember Fergus, we want them alive.”

Castiel flopped his head around to face Crowley and regretted the fast movement immediately, as it left his head pounding. Crowley was looking at an assortment of weapons and a small, bloody, round-headed mace was leaning against the wall behind him.

“Ah, this one will be good to start with.” Crowley selected a silver-tipped knife that was about six inches long and approached the helpless omega. “I have to say, when Mother said I would get the chance to...” he chuckled, “well, you know. I rather enjoyed the idea. A shame we lost Alastair, but then again, if he could be killed by someone like you, he couldn’t have been worth much, now could he?”

“You will not break me, Crowley. I would rather die first.” His voice was barely above a whisper. The blade of the knife was already tickling the side of his neck, just enough for him to be aware of it.

“Well, we’ll just see about that now, won’t we?” With that, Crowley put pressure behind the blade, slowly cutting a line down Castiel’s neck, ending at his shoulder. “Let the fun begin.”

The cut on the omega’s neck was just the beginning. After that, a series of short, quick cuts were made down his arm. Castiel clenched his jaw against the stinging pain, knowing that Crowley was only just starting. He was only being toyed with at this point. He felt the blade slice into the inside of his left leg near the ankle and move up. He tried to kick against the restraint, but his body failed to respond. He lolled his head back hopelessly as he felt a warm gush of blood pool beneath him. There was a clatter as the knife that Crowley had been using was discarded for a more favorable one. The alpha briefly came into his limited field of vision and then he felt a sharp pain in his right ear and the warm trickle of blood. Crowley then returned to his line of sight, a wicked grin on his face, holding something that could only be a small sliver of Castiel’s ear, which he promptly dropped onto his face. Castiel flinched and tried to squirm away, the feeling of being incapable of movement only serving to ramp up the feeling of panic.

“Ah ah ah!” Crowley laughed. “You’re not allowed to move. Not that you could anyway.” He walked away to retrieve another bladed weapon. “Now, what should I do next?”

Castiel whimpered softly after Crowley put the sixth short, shallow cut across his collarbone. The torture had been going on for what felt like hours at this point. He could feel blood oozing from stinging cuts all over his body. Surely it would be over soon. He strained to see what Crowley was up to, but quickly gave up in exhaustion. He tried to prepare himself as he heard the slow, calculated steps of the alpha return to the table. Suddenly, he felt the sharp point of a long, thin blade press into the side of his right knee. He screamed and struggled uselessly to kick away, to break free, anything. He felt the point of the blade break the skin on the other side. Castiel felt like he was going to vomit, his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath and listened to Crowley’s gruff laughter and the clatter of him picking up another knife, leaving the thin blade in Castiel’s knee.

“And now for the coup de grâce.” Crowley placed the tip of the large blade onto the lower end of Castiel’s sternum. “Try to stop that awful heaving. You’ll only make it worse.”

The blade cut down, nearly to the bone. Castiel screamed harshly as the blade was slowly dragged up his chest, through the wolf and falcon mark, through the Novak sigil. Suddenly, he could no longer breathe and his vision started fading. He could feel the blood pouring from the wound as the alpha continued upward, all the way to the dip in his throat before stopping abruptly. He choked on his own blood, biting the tip of his tongue hard enough to bleed heavily before everything finally faded into darkness.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left this chapter on a slightly better note than the last one (can't give y'all cliffhangers every time, much as I enjoy it). I hate to say it, but as of right now, Marked is on a temporary hiatus. I expect to have a chapter up no later than the end of June, so roughly a month from now. I have other projects to focus on, so I can't work on this one as much as I'd like. Feathers and Fur is hitting the crossover point, so if you really want to read more of my writing, you can find it there along with the rewritten version of Not For Nothing coming out soon.
> 
> As always, beta'd by kittenbot. I swear this thing would make no sense without her.

Castiel was floating, best as he could tell. Everything was dark and quiet. He couldn’t feel anything, he couldn’t hear anything. Vaguely, he thought there might have been something important he was supposed to do, or something that was supposed to happen, but trying to remember was entirely too much effort, especially when the silence and darkness was so comforting. He didn’t want to leave. Staying here was a far better alternative. He couldn’t exactly remember why, he just knew.

Still, something was poking at his consciousness, trying to drag him out of the darkness and back into the light. Back into the pain and the blood. A faint buzzing noise could be heard, steadily getting louder the more he tried to ignore it. With it came hazy sensations; the phantom sting of skin splitting, the dull throb of limbs left too long under pressure and out of socket. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was feeling any of it; surely nothing bad had happened, he was safe in the darkness. Nothing could happen there. Nothing had happened.

The illusion was shattered when searing pain pierced the darkness, bringing everything back all at once as he awoke with a scream.

“...it’s okay. It’s okay now, Cas. Just breathe. You’ll be fine.” The voice was familiar, at least what he could hear of it over the pounding of his pulse. His breath was coming in quick, shallow pants, the pull of broken skin and dried blood making anything more too painful to attempt. “Look at me, angel. Can you do that for me?”

Slowly, carefully, Castiel cracked his eyes open, blinking a few times to try to bring Meg’s face into focus. Her hand was on his face, the side without as much bruising, her thumb stroking his cheekbone softly. He leaned into the touch with a soft groan, relief flooding him.

“That’s it, angel. Just try to relax. We’ve still got to get out of here, and I’m not sure exactly how we’re gonna manage that just yet.” Meg kept her hand on his cheek, tossing the thin knife from his knee on the stand by the table. “Found some old supplies left by the miners, and if I set the timer right, we’ve got exactly fifteen minutes to get out of here. I hate to say it, but this is probably gonna hurt like hell.”

“Do what you have to.” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. His throat felt like sandpaper, and talking hurt almost as much as the rest of him.

Meg undid the leather straps holding his wrists and ankles down, barely giving him enough time to see if he could move yet before she was roughly hauling him up into a sitting position, pulling his good arm around her shoulders and trying to stand. Every movement seemed to reopen another cut, and the fresh blood was making it a lot harder for her to keep a grip on him. He gritted his teeth against the burning pain, struggling and failing to get his limbs working properly. Whatever Rowena had given him was still affecting him, and what little control he did have was jerky and erratic, hindering more than helping.

“You know, you don’t look it, but you weigh a damn ton. I’m guessing you’re not going to be much help with getting out of here, either. Good thing for us, the exit to this godforsaken mine isn’t all that far from here.” Meg shifted him gently for a moment, taking a tentative step before pausing again, looking at him as though contemplating something. “I’ve got an idea. Think you could hold onto me?”

Without waiting for an answer, Meg moved in front of him, carefully pulling both arms over her shoulders before dropping slowly to her knees, letting him fall across her back. She grabbed both of his legs, jerking them forward a bit roughly as she moved to rise. He scrabbled weakly for something to grab with his good hand, finding purchase in her shirt and clinging to it as best he could. Meg stood quickly, albeit a bit shaky, and after a few false starts, she began making her way out the door and down what looked like the most unstable mine shaft he had ever seen. Not that he had actually seen any, but the occasional pebble dropping from the ceiling and the faint creak of ancient wood struggling to hold up the stone wasn’t even remotely safe looking. Instead of worrying about it, he let his head loll to the side, burying his nose in Meg’s neck as he tried to drown out the sharp stabs of pain every step made. Her scent was sweet, with an underlying hint of something sharp and masculine. Cedarwood maybe, or pine, but definitely—

“You’re an alpha.” Female alphas were rare, almost considered an anomaly among shifters. They were functionally both male and female, same as a male omega, though their external appearance was clearly female. As with omegas, it was difficult to tell what they were without being close enough to scent them, though unlike omegas, what they were was obvious at birth.

“Yep. My family wasn’t sure what to make of me when I was born, so they didn’t. I was found and raised by this pack, long before Alastair took over. Been here ever since.” Castiel could feel Meg smile, keeping his eyes closed and his face pressed tight to her neck. “What about you?”

“Born to the Novak cairn. Parents died when I was four, I was raised by my oldest brother after that. Wasn’t pleasant, especially after I presented.” Castiel struggled to take any kind of decent breath, the pressure on his chest making him feel light-headed with every attempt. Meg clearly noticed, shifting him just a little higher and moving faster through the winding tunnels. “Met my mate at the last gathering, found out my brother had sold me to the MacLeods when I was fifteen. Been living with the Winchesters since spring.”

“You have a mate?” If Castiel didn’t know any better, he would have guessed that Meg sounded almost upset at hearing that. She huffed a small laugh, “Damn. And here I was hoping we could get to know each other better after all of this. No worries angel, I’ll have you back to Dean in no time, and before you ask, you talk in your sleep.”

Meg hauled right on the next fork, struggling to shift him again and almost freezing when she accidentally knocked his wing into one of the walls. He bit back a whimper of pain, tears building in the corners of his eyes in frustration. He hated having to be carried out, hated being in this position in the first place. If he hadn’t been so desperate to prove himself, if he’d paid attention to his surroundings better, he wouldn’t have been taken in the first place.

“I can practically hear what you’re thinking, angel. Knock it off. You’re not to blame here. I haven’t even known those two for that long and I could tell they’re batshit with a side of crazy. And if your mate is half the man he ought to be, he isn’t gonna blame you either.”

Without much warning, Castiel found himself outside, blinking against the pale sunlight as the bitter cold hit him like a ton of bricks. He was almost surprised to find it was only mid afternoon, he had been sure it was much later than that. He inhaled sharply, choking when it hit his still raw throat. Meg kept going, deep into the woods surrounding the mine before pausing some half a mile away, leaning against a tree for a moment before carefully lowering Castiel to the ground. He half expected to feel nothing but the sharp bite of snow on his naked skin, but clearly Meg had thought ahead, a small pile of blankets beneath him instead. She leaned him against the tree as gently as she could, making sure not to put any weight on the dislocated joint. He jumped a little when a thick blanket was thrown over him, tucked behind him and under him and wrapped as carefully as possible around his outstretched leg.

“I don’t have any actual clothes, sorry. There was only so much I could sneak out without someone getting suspicious. Hell, I’m surprised I managed to get as much as I did. Lucky for us, Alastair was a moron. Stole a mule from your clan and then just left it outside. Didn’t look too suspicious when I kept going outside to take care of it.” At that particular moment a muffled explosion could be heard, though when Meg just winked at him, Castiel ignored it. “Hopefully that’ll have caved in the entrance. Seriously, who keeps old dynamite they found in an abandoned mine? Dangerous stuff. Goes off for no reason, especially around ancient generators.”

When Castiel finally did look around, he recognized one of Dean’s favorite mules tied to a tree with a fairly old rope halter not too far away, looking for all the world completely unconcerned with anything going on around it. Next to the mule was another small pile of blankets, some rags and a couple of thin pieces of wood left in a heap on top of them.

“Wanted to give you a minute to breathe, but before we head out of here, I want to get your arm set and splinted, same for your knee. Frankly, how you’re not screaming in pain every time you twitch is beyond me.” Meg’s smile was soft, and Castiel couldn’t help but return it. Perhaps, if he’d met her before Dean…

Meg walked over to the pile of rags and splints, dumping them in his lap before baring his leg to the cold once more. His knee was starting to swell, blood crusted and flaking from either side. The memory of the knife sliding through his leg still felt fresh in his mind, and Meg had to slap a hand over his mouth when she started prodding at it, muffling the strangled cry he let out.

“Looks like it was a clean through and through, I don’t think he actually cut anything important. Still, just in case, you probably shouldn’t be bending it much before you see an actual healer, so sorry, it’s getting splinted, too.” She didn’t give him much time to react, handing him a small strip of leather he hadn’t noticed before to bite down on, muttering about not needing anyone to hear where they were before she was done. She worked quickly, getting his knee wrapped and splinted in record time. When she was done, she wrapped his left leg from ankle to knee before taking his left arm, careful not to move it too much as she tried to feel out if she could reset the bone.

“Should have done this one last night, but they probably would have just undone it again...I think I can set it, but it’s not going to be pretty. If it’s any consolation, I should be able to get it done quickly. Now, look at me, and try not to scream.” She barely gave him time to react before roughly popping the bone back together. His head hit the tree before he could make a sound, stars popping behind his eyelids at the contact and effectively rendering him silent. The nausea he’d been able to fight until now hit him full force, and Meg barely managed to lean him over in time before he was dry heaving, only able to cough up a bit of bile. Every move tore at his chest and jarred his wings, fresh blood dripping onto the snow from reopened wounds.

Eventually, he managed to stop. Meg pulled him back up and held a small metal flask full of water to his lips, claiming she found it left behind in the mine. He drank slowly, the water a much needed balm on his throat. When he had it drained, she replaced the leather strip, finishing the splint on his arm in record time. Without warning, she quickly bent him forward until his head was practically against his knees, taking his left wing in both hands and popping it back into place before he had time to realize what she was doing. 

“Sorry angel, but we’re a bit pressed for time. I can’t promise that everyone was still in the mine, and I’d really rather not get caught.” She carefully gathered him up bridal style, carrying him over to the mule and fighting to get him over its back, cussing and grumbling something about ridiculously tall mules the whole way. Finally, she managed to get him situated, leaning him forward and making sure he was mostly balanced before untying the mule and hopping up herself with one arm carefully wrapped around his waist, the single lead to the mule’s halter in the other. His wings drooped down to either side of them, almost dragging the ground even from the mule’s back. He let himself be moved with the momentum, his head tipping back to rest on Meg’s shoulder as they rocked gently with the mule’s gait. It wasn’t long before the steady motion had him drifting off again, Meg’s almost vice-like grip the first bit of security and safety he’d felt in days.

***

It was actually the lack of movement that brought him back around first, the gentle vibrations of Meg speaking against his back becoming more obvious as he slowly woke up. From what he could feel, they were still on the back of the mule, but aside from Meg’s voice and a more distant, muffled voice, there was no other sound or movement. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open, relieved to feel that he could pick his head up more easily than he could before, though he still almost flopped forward and off the mule when he tried to look in the direction of the other voice. Meg’s grip tightened around his waist, though she didn’t move to do anything else.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was still fuzzy, and belatedly Castiel wondered if he’d lost more blood than he thought he had, what with the world starting to spin. A quick glance down confirmed that the blanket had indeed glued itself to his chest, blood staining the front of it.

“Dean…” Castiel’s voice sounded rougher than it had before, his words slurred even to his own ears. “Dean, please…don’t hurt her…”

“I told you, I was trying to get him home. Now if you don’t mind, he really needs to see a healer, but I can’t get the hell off of here without someone holding him. He was drugged, it still hasn’t worn off yet.” Meg sounded worried, and when Castiel was finally able to focus, he could see why. Dean, Sam and Adam all stood just a short ways off from where Meg had stopped the mule, Gabriel and John to the right. 

“We’re only a few miles away, she could just follow us, Dean.” John’s voice was a mixture of mistrust and relief. “It will be faster, and he looks like he needs it.”

“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d rather not. I need to go back and make sure he’ll be safe, and the sooner the better.” Meg sounded uncertain, unwilling to let him go but unwilling to keep him from what she deemed as his family, either. One she clearly didn’t want a part of. He could understand why, but the relief he felt at finally seeing Dean left him with little room to think on it too much.

With a nod, Dean and Sam approached them slowly, Sam holding Castiel as steady as he could as Meg slid off of the mule with surprising grace, handing the lead to Dean as she went. She gave Dean a leg up and waited until he was situated with a tight grip on his mate before placing a hand on Castiel’s thigh, ignoring the low growl she got from Dean for it.

“Hope you know what you have there, Dean. Now go, save your unicorn.” Without a glance back Meg took off through the forest, back the way Castiel assumed they came.

Dean only watched her for a moment before focusing on Castiel completely, burying his nose in his mate’s neck with a muffled sob. His arm came up to grip Castiel tightly, pausing at the pained whine the pressure got him.

“Fuck, Cas, what happened? I thought I’d lost you. Adam and the others came back, they said all they could find was your blood. We’ve been searching ever since, but we couldn’t find anything.”

“It’s-it’s a long story.” Castiel coughed through the sentence, a little alarmed at the taste and sight of blood, but too tired and dizzy to think on it much. Dean noticed it immediately however, and with a nod to his father and a shift of his grip across Castiel’s chest and shoulder, spurred the mule into as fast a canter as he dared, apologizing the whole way. Castiel just leaned back into Dean, only making a sound when his broken wing bumped into something.

It seemed like no time had passed at all before they were breaking out into the now-familiar clearing. Dean guided the mule across it and down the paths leading to Pamela and Missouri’s cabin with practiced ease, practically stopping right on their porch before sliding off of the mule and taking Castiel with him as carefully as he could. Immediately, he shut his eyes and buried himself in the scent of his mate, something he hadn’t been sure he would ever get to have again. He didn’t make a sound when Dean jostled him too much getting the door open, too content and happy to care how much everything hurt.

It certainly hurt when Dean set him down on Pamela’s bed, his left wing still aching and the arch of his right wing still bent at an unnatural angle. Immediately Dean apologized, shushing him with soft kisses everywhere there wasn’t blood or bruising. Pamela entered the room not long after, a look of concern and guilt plainly written on her face. Missouri was right behind her, a box of medical supplies under her arm and the same look marring her features.

They were silent as they removed the blankets, wincing in sympathy when the one across his chest stuck and pulled painfully, starting the wound bleeding all over again. Pamela immediately sent Dean off to get a bucket of clean water while she took inventory of Castiel’s injuries, apologizing without words for letting them happen in the first place. Castiel couldn’t bear to look at any of them, his own guilt overtaking any relief he had felt at seeing his family again.

It wasn’t until Dean returned with a bucket and sat at the edge of the bed to start unwrapping the bindings on his legs that Pamela finally encouraged him to recount what happened, pausing in her work at cleaning him of dried, crusted blood to make him sip at some water every so often. He told them of the MacLeod’s plans, of Alastair’s death, Rowena’s drug and Meg’s rescue, glossing over the part about him being pregnant. Pamela gave him a knowing look, but didn’t press the issue, only running her hand across his abdomen in a reassuring gesture before resuming her task.

Castiel was half asleep by the time they finished cleaning the blood off, still frustrated at not being able to move much but too tired to keep trying. Pamela’s words were a bit muffled to him, and he only caught half of what she was saying to him. It was fairly obvious what she was doing anyways, picking up and examining his left arm carefully before moving on to poke and prod at every other injury he had. He almost bit his tongue again when she tried to move his right knee, his vision going black at the edges as he struggled to draw in a breath. Even the memory of it was still too much for him, and it wasn’t until Dean had gently grabbed his face, whispering softly against his forehead that he finally managed to calm down. He was still shaking, vaguely aware of tear tracks running down the sides of his face as he focused on his mate. 

He remained silent after that, flinching when Pamela set his right wing and bound it. Even when she splinted and wrapped his arm, the most noise he made was a soft grunt. He was quiet when Pamela stitched him up, ankle to chest, and he was quiet when they finally rolled him to his side to bind his wings. Dean spoke softly to him the whole time, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. When she was done, Pamela pulled Dean off to the side, whispering to him about something before gathering the supplies and leaving with Missouri, telling them to take the bed for the night. They could move Castiel back home in the morning, when he would be more likely to be able to move again. 

Dean pulled the blankets up around Castiel before crawling into the bed with him, mindfully pulling him to his chest and clinging to him like Castiel might disappear if he let go. Castiel sank into the embrace, finally letting himself truly relax for the first time since he made it home. The events of the past few days seemed to fade away, but he knew there was one last thing he had to tell Dean, though he was still as wary of the outcome as the day after they had met so many months ago.

“Dean?” Even at a whisper, his voice croaked, throat still rough and painfully raw. 

“Yeah?” His mate ran a hand gently along his side, his face buried in Castiel’s hair.

“I-I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.” He held his breath, waiting for Dean’s response.

“Cas…” He could practically hear Dean’s smile, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt Dean’s hand move down to his stomach, idly rubbing the soft skin there. “That’s—you have no idea how happy I am, how happy that makes me.”

They both fell asleep like that, Dean’s hand resting on Castiel’s stomach while Castiel drowned in the scent of happy, content mate. He wasn’t sure how things would look in the morning, but for that moment, everything was fine.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I was putting this on hiatus? May have lied a bit. I got my chapter for Feathers up and now I'm just sitting bored waiting for Ships to get her end going. In the meantime, have another little chapter. Sure, it's mostly filler, but not everything can be plot! Besides, I'm thinking there's probably only five or so chapters left before this is done, and we don't want it to end too terribly soon, do we?
> 
> Beta'd by kittenbot the saint!
> 
> Feel free to take wild guesses as to how many kids Cas will end up having.

Castiel could feel the bite and burn of silver-tipped metal cutting flesh, the piercing throb of broken bones radiating out across his entire body. He opened his mouth to scream, choking when his throat filled with blood. He felt the warmth of a body next to him and fought to jerk away from it, fully expecting to be completely immobile. 

Instead, he landed hard on his side on the floor, jolting awake with a gasp and a hiss of pain as the dream faded and left him reeling. He pressed his face against the cool floor as he tried to catch his breath. He supposed it was a bit unreasonable to assume that his first night back would be quiet, and a quick glance at the window in front of him told him dawn was only just starting to break over the horizon. At the very least, Castiel was pleased that his episode hadn’t been any louder. He didn’t need everyone to come running in and seeing him like this.

He tentatively pushed himself to sit up, grateful that he was finally able to do so without issue beyond the itch of stitches being shifted. With his good hand, he tried to pull himself back up onto the bed, his splinted leg making the task far more difficult than he thought it ought to be. His stitches pulled against his skin, a slow, thin trickle of warmth rolling down his chest the harder he strained to climb back into bed. 

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean appeared by his side, his scent saturated with worry. “You’ll hurt yourself. Just hold on a second, I’ll help you up.” 

Castiel flinched when Dean reached for him, chastising himself for it when he thought he saw hurt momentarily flash across his mate’s face. He let go of the bed, grabbing for Dean and clinging to him for dear life. Dean carefully lifted him back onto the bed, propping him up with pillows and relighting the oil lamp on the stand next to them.

“I woke up when I heard you yell, but it took me a minute to realize what was going on. I’m sorry Cas, I should have been able to move faster. Maybe you wouldn’t have torn your stitches if I had.” Dean lightly ran his hand along the massive gash on his chest before turning around to grab a cloth from the pile Pamela left them on the dresser, dampening it in a bowl also left and slowly wiping away the blood still seeping sluggishly down his torso. 

“It’s not your fault, Dean.” Castiel’s voice still sounded unusually rough, the feeling of swallowing sandpaper still plaguing him. He stared down at his lap, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions. “It was a nightmare. I thought I was still there. I-I thought—”

“You can’t control it Cassie, I don’t care how hard you try.” Pamela appeared in the doorway, still blinking sleep from her eyes. “It’s not your fault, either. And don’t argue with me, I don’t have to have your nose to know you’re feeling guilty about all of this.”

Pamela walked over to them, running her hand down the gash in his chest. She grimaced when she passed over his tattoos, pausing where he had torn the stitches. With a small sigh, she stood, not looking towards either of them on her way out the door, pausing just long enough to address them before disappearing again.

“Since we’re all up and he can move again, I need to start cataloguing everything and get you both ready to move back home. I did what I could yesterday, but not everything could be addressed. I’ll be right back with everything, just sit tight for me, will ya?”

Castiel only glanced at her before returning his gaze to his lap, still unsure of how he was supposed to feel. Dean refused to move from his side, running his hand along his left shoulder reassuringly, the only uninjured spot within reach. Pamela was back in moments, the medical pack under her arm along with a few sheets of yellowed paper and an ancient pen. She handed the paper to Dean, asking him to write down everything she told him to, using her exact words before setting the pack next to Castiel’s legs and getting to work. She started with his face, lightly pressing down around his left eye where he was still swollen before running her hands along his scalp and around his neck.

“Broken zygomatic arch, thin cut along the side of his neck. No further damage to his skull, mild concussion suspected. Missing outer cartilage shell from right ear.” She spoke without emotion, but her scent was rapidly flooding with guilt. Before Castiel could even open his mouth to speak, she was moving on, running her hands along his chest and torso, down his arms and ending with a reassuring squeeze to his hands. “Broken left radius, clean break, no expected complications. Six cuts along the collarbone, shallow, no need for stitching. Deep incision along the sternum, multiple stitches required. Multiple cuts along right arm, all minor.”

When her hands moved to his wings, Castiel couldn’t help the half-hearted attempt to jerk away as she unbound them, grateful when Pamela only waited for him to settle, a soft smile on her face as she gently stroked her thumb along the spot where she held him. When she could move her hand again without him flinching, she continued, starting where they sprouted from his back and working her way up to the very tips before moving to the other side of the bed and repeating it with the other wing.

“Dislocated left secondary shoulder joint, broken right radius. Uropygial glands functional, though the right arch’s is swollen. Injuries will prevent shifting for several weeks until fully healed. No other expected complications.” Castiel stared at her as she spoke. The realization that he couldn’t shift was not a comfortable one. Having wings felt like a weakness, especially when they were as sensitive as they felt. Pamela didn’t give him much time to process it before she moved on, running her hands from his hips to his feet carefully.

“Puncture wound on left thigh, depth is concerning. Will have to be monitored for infection. Deep incision along the inside of the left calf, bone visible near ankle. Multiple stitches needed. Puncture in right knee, through and through.” She kept her hands on his knee, waiting for Castiel to give his consent before lifting his leg and bending the knee carefully. He managed to breathe through the pain of it this time, Dean immediately at his side, whispering softly to him. “Cartilage was cut through, tendons are still functional. No permanent complications expected, though it will likely take a long time to heal.”

“I still don’t see how the hell you can do all of this blind.” Dean finally spoke up as he finished writing, steadfastly refusing to look at how much of the page was taken up.

“I don’t need to see to feel out a problem, hon. I’ve been a healer and a seer since before you were born.” Pamela chuckled as she set his leg back down. “Now for the fun part. Lay back for me Cassie, let’s see how the kids are doing.”

“Wait, kids?” Dean stared at her outright, trying to decide if she was joking or not.

“Yes, kids. Part of the fun of being from a line of birds is a high chance of multiples. Generally not more than three, though there were a few of the Novaks that only had singles. It happens more with raptors than it does other species. Surely you know this, Dean. You’re a wolf. Singles are just as rare in your line.”

“Yeah, but...shit. Guess I didn’t think of that. I always thought they were usually singles the first time around. Didn’t realize our species had that much of an effect.”

“If he were a deer or a goat, I’d be inclined to agree with you.” Pamela gently laid her hand on Castiel’s abdomen, the contact warm and comforting to him. “That’s definitely not the case this time. Twins for certain, but I wouldn’t rule out a possible third. Either way, they’re holding on pretty well. No unnecessary exertion on your part and they should be just fine. I think three weeks of bed rest ought to do you some good. Unfortunately, you’re highly unlikely to make it to your due date. You’re already roughly four weeks along, so expect to go into labor any time around week thirty five.”

“That sounds really early.” Castiel struggled to sit up, aided by Dean carefully keeping a hand on his back. 

“It is, but it being twins on top of trauma and you’ll be lucky to make it past eight months. Now, take it easy for a little bit, I’ve got to go get something. I’ll be back in a few to redo those stitches and rebind your wings. Try not to move much.” Pamela smiled softly before standing. “By the way, Dean? John is probably going to be declaring war. That’s what those papers are for. I haven’t mentioned anything about Castiel being with pup, I thought you might want to tell him that yourself. He’s already furious, I’d be careful how I break the news to him if I were you.”

With that Pamela left them, though not before reassuring them again that she would be back as soon as she could. In the silence that followed, Castiel finally felt how truly exhausted he was, leaning against Dean gingerly as he fought back a yawn. The sun still wasn’t quite up, though the sky was considerably brighter than it had been. He was dozing off and on, as relaxed as he could get with the scent of his mate enveloping him completely. Dean had one arm carefully supporting his back, the other gently caressing his stomach.

He jumped a little when Pamela returned, Dean immediately hushing him and running a hand through his hair. She only smiled at them, shaking her head as she dug through the pack to pull out a clean needle and thread. Only a few stitches needed to be redone, Castiel soldiering through silently. Truth be told, he was mostly just exhausted, the sting of a needle almost secondary to the need to sleep. He never even attempted to lift his head from Dean’s shoulder.

“Think you’re up to getting back to your own house? You’re more than welcome to sleep here for a bit longer if you’d like, but the cart’s already been pulled up and the mule’s harnessed if you’d like to sleep in your own bed.” Castiel nodded sleepily, moving to slide off the bed before Dean caught him and gently pulled him back into his arms. A blanket was wrapped around him, tucked carefully around his wings, the excess pooling in his lap.

“You aren’t going anywhere, Cas. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t walk even if you tried. Just relax, I’ve got you.” Dean stood, picking Castiel up bridal style and cradling him closely to his chest. He carried his mate slowly outside, holding back a laugh when Castiel just yawned and nuzzled closer to him. 

He cracked his eyes open when they got outside, the cold cutting through the blanket within seconds. He shivered involuntarily, a whine escaping him when the movement jarred his stitches. Dean only held him a little tighter, whispering in his ear that he would be fine, that they would be home and in their own bed soon. Pamela smiled at them as she passed, tossing another blanket over Castiel before untying the mule from the porch and leading him to the small hay cart sitting a few feet from the cabin. Dean crawled into the back, settling Castiel in his lap as carefully as he could before wrapping the second blanket around his front.

“Still don’t see how you can do this blind!” Dean called to Pamela, laughing when she only gestured rudely at him before finishing hitching the mule and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Good thing your mule isn’t blind then. It’s not like I haven’t made it out to your house by myself before, but if it makes you feel better, you can just shout directions. I promise, I’ll only ignore most of them.” Pamela laughed as she urged the mule forward, keeping him at a slow pace. It had snowed again some time during the night, a few inches covering everything as far as Castiel could see. The sun was only just starting to crawl over the horizon, his breath almost glittering in the pale orange light.

Despite the relatively rough road leading up to their home, Castiel still managed to stay relaxed, wincing slightly on some of the rougher bumps, but otherwise just calmly watching the scenery crawl by. He wasn’t sure if he had dozed off again or not, but it seemed like no time at all before their home was in view, Dean sliding forward slowly so as not to jar Castiel too much. He winced when Dean slid on some snow and tightened his grip too much, but the transfer from cart to home was otherwise uneventful. Pamela went ahead of them, opening the door and walking straight back to their bedroom as though she owned the place.

Being set down in his own bed was a relief Castiel didn’t realize he needed. It had only been a few days, but the combined scent of himself and his mate was a balm for his frayed nerves. He could hear Dean and Pamela talking, but it sounded muffled and far less important than burrowing into the mess of blankets and pillows and getting as comfortable as he could. He tried hard to stay awake and try to listen in on their conversation, but it was only a matter of minutes before he was asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some notes to keep in mind.
> 
> The average length of gestation is still 40 weeks, just to make it easy to keep track of insofar as development.
> 
> Shifters heal at roughly twice the rate of the average human, so 3-4 weeks for a broken bone would be fairly normal for them.
> 
> For the purpose of keeping my sanity, I'll be sticking with using the term pups for now, though feel free to drop suggestions! Whether they'll be wolf or bird hasn't exactly been set in stone yet.


	13. 12.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a hundred percent sure what happened, but this tiny piece of filler got cut short from the last chapter. Yes, it took me this long to notice. I haven't wanted to write at all for no discernible reason. So, while I finish up the next *actual* chapter, have this little tidbit as an apology for hiding for a month.

The weeks following his return home seemed to drag on. John had visited later on that first afternoon, his eyes glistening with unshed tears of joy at the news that he might have grandchildren soon. The news also seemed to spur his rage, and by the end of the week, half the clans in the country knew of the MacLeods’ plans and actions. People had been coming and going from the Winchester lands ever since word got out, most of them interested in seeing Castiel for themselves to confirm that John wasn’t lying. Pamela managed to deflect most of them for him, but there were a few who were not placated by notes and accounts, and Castiel had met with far too many of them for his liking.

By the end of the third week, Castiel was going stir-crazy. Pamela had wanted him on bedrest for the duration and Dean was entirely too willing to enforce it. By the fourth week he was able to walk again, albeit slowly and for short distances before Dean was insisting he stop and rest. His knee was still stiff and painful, and Pamela feared he may end up with a limp for a long time, if not permanently. She wanted him to keep it wrapped if he wanted to walk anywhere, and he had no problems complying. The stitches had come out the week before, leaving behind long pink scars running down his chest and leg. The scars would never fade, but Dean didn’t seem to mind and Castiel was working on accepting it. His left wing had been unbound within the first week, though the right was still braced. The damage was more extensive than Pamela had first felt out, and when he still couldn’t so much as twitch it without near blinding pain, she insisted it stay wrapped and immobile for a few more weeks at least. The binding was supposed to come off later that day, and Castiel was getting impatient. Even his arm was mostly healed, only kept in a light brace to keep him from overworking it and fracturing it again. He still had nightmares though, and even Pamela was at a loss as to how to keep them at bay.

It was still relatively early in the morning, and Castiel was on the couch, busy struggling to thread leather cord through several large pieces of hide from one of the deer brought in the week before. To say he wasn’t great at it was a bit of an understatement, even without claws in the way, but he was bored out of his mind, and with the rough winter, the hides were very much needed. Most of the winter clothes the clan had were aged beyond use, and it was generally easier to make them than buy or trade for them. Gabriel sat with him, making an even worse mess of his set of hides. He’d never had the patience for such a thing and was only tolerating it now to keep his little brother happy. Dean was off working on something he refused to tell Castiel about, promising that he would be back with it soon and that he ought to like it.

At eight weeks, Castiel was finally starting to show just the tiniest bit, even if it only looked like he’d simply eaten too much. For the most part, he’d been blissfully free of any of the more unpleasant symptoms, though he doubted his luck would hold out for much longer. Certain smells were starting to make his stomach churn uncomfortably, and he seemed to have developed the ability to fall asleep anywhere, any time, something both Dean and Gabriel would tease him about whenever they saw fit. He simply took it in stride, promising retribution.

The front door swung open, Pamela walking through with Dean close behind her. She nodded in Gabriel’s direction before immediately sitting down between the pair, knocking the brothers to either side as she got comfortable.

“Morning, boys! Ya getting sick of me yet?” Gabriel only glared at her for making him move, while Castiel resisted the urge to shift his wing just enough to bump her sideways. Dean stood near the door, trying his best not to laugh at them and failing. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You know why I’m here, you ought to be happy!”

“I’m very happy about getting my wing out of the bindings. I’m not terribly thrilled about being knocked halfway off the couch.” 

“Oh, calm down, grumpy. I know you’re desperate to get out and do something besides sitting around looking pretty, so I helped Dean with something that ought to make it a little easier. While he’s getting it, why don’t you turn a bit for me so I can reach your wing?” Castiel grumbled under his breath about how she could have done so without disrupting his work, but turned for her anyway, presenting his right wing without hesitation. Pamela wasted no time in unraveling the wraps, rubbing the arch gingerly once it was free. The joint was still sore, but the touch wasn’t nearly as painful as it had been even just a couple of weeks ago. With little prompting, Pamela had Castiel standing and slowly stretching it, turning it in every direction possible before he folded it against his back again. 

“Everything looks like it’s healing just fine, but I don’t want you to try shifting again for a few more days, at least until it’s completely pain free and not so stiff anymore. After that, you should be free to shift as you please, though I would refrain from doing so too often. I’m not entirely sure how much it’ll take out of you, especially with being pregnant, and I’d rather you try to take it as easy as possible until you deliver.”

Castiel opened his mouth to ask what she meant by taking it easy, but Dean chose that moment to walk back in with what looked like a crutch in his hands. 

“Since you’re still limping when you walk, I figured this would probably help. Pamela helped me design it, and even though you’ll probably only need it for a few weeks, I just figured you might like it.” Dean looked at him sheepishly, anxiety muddling his scent. Castiel stared at the piece of wood, almost surprised Dean had taken the time to make something like it for him. It was well polished, the top bit flat with a handle sticking out partway down the shaft. Fur padded the top piece and the handle, with a small piece of padded leather at the bottom. He wasted no time in walking over to Dean, his wings shifting to keep his balance as he tried to keep his weight off of his right leg. Without hesitation he threw his arms around his mate’s neck, murmuring his thanks between soft kisses to the fluttering pulse just beneath the warm skin. The change in Dean’s scent was almost immediate, relief overtaking the anxiety and mixing with something else, something deep and heady and all too familiar. Dean set the crutch aside, his hands coming up to bury themselves in the feathers near Castiel’s back.

“Well, I did what I needed to, so I’ll just being going now. Gabriel, you might wanna head back with me.” Pamela was off the couch and by the front door in a heartbeat.

The couple paid no attention to her or Castiel’s brother, Dean too busy stroking through feathers and Castiel too busy losing himself to the sensation to be concerned with either of them. He shivered with every slight tug, gripping Dean tightly as he started to nip at the sensitive skin on his neck.

“Right behind ya, Pam. Don’t think I wanna stick around for this.” Gabriel shot up from the couch, joining Pamela by the front door.

“Try to take it easy guys, I’ll see you both later!” With that, the pair took off, shutting the door behind them.

Dean wasted no time picking Castiel up, groaning softly when his legs wrapped as tightly as possible around his waist. He carefully carried his mate back into their bedroom, depositing him gently onto the bed. Castiel shuffled back, spreading his wings in blatant invitation. Dean took the opportunity, crawling across the bed and straddling the omega beneath him.

“Why don’t you roll over for me? You’ve had those wings bound up for so long, and I’ve wanted to touch them ever since I first saw you with them.” Castiel obliged, shuffling over until he was on his stomach, wings tucked tight before spreading wide again, the feathers fluffed out in anticipation. Dean took his time, slowly running his fingers through the feathers closest to his back. Castiel arched into the touch, groaning at the small shocks racing along his spine at the touch. He could feel slick starting to drip along with something light and slightly oily along his back when Dean pressed against the joints. He cried out when Dean rubbed against the glands, wings quivering as he struggled to hold still. Dean didn’t focus on them for long, running his hands along the ridge to the arches, taking the time to rake his hands through every feather. He whispered words of encouragement against Castiel’s skin, pressing kisses along his spine.

When he reached the small of his back, Dean abandoned his wings in favor of spreading him wide open, breath ghosting over his slick-soaked hole. Castiel only had a moment of warning before Dean was dipping his tongue inside, moaning softly as he he practically drank the slick that was all but pouring from Castiel. He pressed back against Dean, small whimpers and gasps falling from his lips with every nip to his rim and twist of Dean’s talented tongue.

“Gods, Cas, tastes so good. Could stay like this forever.” Castiel groaned at the vibration from Dean’s voice, hips twitching minutely as he struggled to keep still. It had been weeks since he and Dean had been able to do anything, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long, not if Dean kept going the way he was.

“Please, don’t stop, please, I need—oh!” Castiel was stunned silent when a finger joined Dean’s tongue, probing expertly until it found what he was looking for. He arched his back with a loud gasp, wings beating steadily against the bed with every pass over his prostate. When Dean added a second finger, he started rocking back against his hand, whimpering quietly at the feeling of being slowly stretched. The friction on his cock from the sheets under him was steadily driving him to madness, teasing without being nearly enough. Even so, he could feel his orgasm starting to build, much too soon for his liking. He wanted Dean inside him, far more than he already was.

“Tastes different...tastes sweeter. I almost don’t wanna stop.” Dean paused for a moment, slowly sliding his fingers in and out, eliciting a sharp whine from Castiel. “Think you could come just from my tongue?”

“You know I could, but—” Castiel didn’t get a chance to finish what he was saying when Dean returned to licking and sucking at him like he was dying of thirst. He was begging before long, pleas slipping from him between gasps and whimpers. Finally Dean stopped, sliding up his body at a leisurely pace, taking the time to nip and lick at the point on his back where skin became feather. He rolled his hips against Castiel’s, cock catching on his rim and making the omega shiver in anticipation.

“Was this what you wanted? You wanted me to fill you, to fuck you until you can’t move? I already bred you up, but I certainly don’t mind trying to do it all over again. Would you like that?” Dean growled in Castiel’s ear, one hand returning to his wing to bury itself in his feathers. Castiel gasped and tried to thrust back against Dean, throat working to form words fruitlessly. He glanced back at Dean, taking in his debauched look with a shuddering sigh. Castiel took the opportunity to kiss him, his own taste exploding on his tongue as he twisted to accommodate his mate. He was so distracted by Dean’s wicked tongue, he almost didn’t notice when Dean slowly slipped inside. His back arched at the feeling, wings fluttering and fluffing up as Dean bottomed out.

Dean only gave him a moment to adjust, waiting for Castiel’s nod before sliding almost all the way out again, slamming back in almost immediately. His thrusts were slow yet hard, a futile effort to stave off his impending orgasm. Castiel desperately wanted to wait for Dean’s knot, wanted them coming together in the most intimate way possible, but Dean seemed determined to push him over the edge first, angling himself perfectly to rub against his prostate with every pass. Castiel was reduced to a panting mess, pushing back against Dean with everything he had. Dean’s grip on his feathers tightened, sending him hurtling toward the edge faster than he thought possible. He felt Dean’s knot starting to form and it was only a few more thrusts before he finally came, wings snapping out straight as he cried out. Dean followed only a few moments later, knot slipping past the ring of muscle to tie them together. 

With noticeable shaky arms, Dean folded a wing against his back before turning them onto their side, burying his face against Castiel’s neck as he struggled to catch his breath. Castiel closed his eyes, content to enjoy the feeling of his mate as close as possible after so long apart. He hummed softly when Dean’s hand slid down to stroke his mostly flat stomach, lulling them both into a light doze. For the first time since he returned home, Castiel managed to sleep without nightmares, wrapped in the safety of his mate and his growing family.


	14. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I just really haven't felt like writing. That being said, we are nearly done! Just two more chapters and that's it. I have three new projectshirts to work on and I'm eager to get started.
> 
> I'm not terribly thrilled with this chapter, but it got the job done.

“How many clans are supposed to be coming today?” Castiel glanced at Dean, the headache that had been forming all morning doing little to distract him from the constant nausea that seemed to follow him at all hours now. He was currently curled up on the couch, trying his hardest to will his general discomfort away.

  
At twelve weeks in, he was starting to get uncomfortable. Clothes were beginning to feel more confining than they ought to, though being saddled with a pair of wings had made shirts a bit of a challenge to begin with. He was unwilling to permanently alter anything he had, unsure of how long he would be stuck with wings. Fortunately for him, word traveled fast through the Winchester clan, and things had started arriving about a week ago. Brand new shirts, tailored to accommodate his wings and large enough to be comfortable as his pregnancy progressed, coats made to both cover and wrap around his wings, and plenty of larger pants had started showing up on their doorstep at all hours. Things for the pups had started arriving, too; clothing and toys and things he never thought he would need, enough to fill one of the spare rooms at least. Despite their arrival being several months away, Dean had even started working on furniture, hiding away in the workshop and refusing to let Castiel see any of it until he was finished.

  
“Do what?” Dean looked over at him from where he sat sorting out papers. John had called an emergency meeting, requesting the presence of the clans he trusted most.

  
“How many people are coming today? John is holding a meeting with them this evening, right?”

  
“I’m pretty sure it’s just the Singers, Harvelles and the Laffites. He doesn’t trust Gordon’s clan any further than he can throw them, and we don’t really have much interaction with any of the others well enough to know if they can be trusted.” Dean sighed as he set the papers down, far too distracted to pay much attention.

  
“The Singers and Harvelles I remember. Didn’t the Laffite clan recently go to Benny?” Castiel beckoned Dean over to the couch, sitting up just long enough to let his mate sit down next to him before flopping over across his lap and burying himself in the scent and warmth Dean radiated. He breathed out a sigh of relief when the nausea and headache started to lessen.

  
“I think so. Benny was the scruffy-looking younger alpha that had his eye on you at the gathering, wasn’t he?” Dean chuckled as he started carding his fingers through Castiel’s hair, eliciting a soft moan at the sensation.  
“Probably. May have been a bit drunk at the time, so my memory is a bit fuzzy.”

  
“Mmm, speaking of fuzzy, we need to get up and get ready, and you definitely need to shave before we leave. Gabriel managed to corner me on my way home yesterday and made sure to remind me that Pamela wanted to see you today for your weekly once-over. Your brother is adorable when he’s trying to be all ‘intimidating older alpha brother’, you know that?”

  
“He always thought he was being subtle about it back when we were kids,” Castiel sat up with a stretch and a groan, shuffling his wings against his back until they were comfortable again. “He hasn’t exactly gotten better at it with age.”

  
The walk up to the clearing took a bit longer than usual, Castiel still dealing with a bit of a limp and Dean unwilling to let him push it. It had gotten a bit better over the weeks, though Pamela was still concerned about permanent damage and insisted he stay off of it as much as possible at their weekly meetings. He generally detested being told to sit on his ass day in and day out, though now that it was getting more difficult to keep any kind of food down, he was complaining about it far less frequently. When Dean opted to spend his free time trapped on the couch with him, he couldn’t find it in himself to complain at all.

  
The main house slowly came into view from behind the trees, though as was the case more often than not, Gabriel came into view just as quickly. Pamela was nowhere in sight, probably still holed up in her room. She had begun taking over duties as clan healer some time ago in an effort to feel useful. Even Gabriel had started helping out, watching over the younger pups of the clan and even trying to teach them a few basic things, though knowing his brother as well as he did, Castiel had his doubts that they were being taught anything truly useful.

  
“Pamela said you guys were almost here, and I was bored watching her try to convince some overprotective beta that her pup really does just have a cough and not some new plague, so I figured I’d come hang out with you ‘til she’s done. She shouldn’t be much longer, she didn’t look like she had much patience left when I bailed.” Gabriel caught up to them and walked beside them the rest of the way, practically bouncing on his heels with pent up energy. He was clearly starting to get bored, and a bored Gabriel was a dangerous one.

  
“Please don’t tell me that. Pamela’s bad enough as it is, I don’t really wanna deal with her grumpy, too.” Castiel held back a groan at the thought.

  
“Yeah, just wait til I tell you the real news. Lucifer’s here. Sans Naomi, surprisingly enough. From what I hear they get along even better than he and Michael did. Seems Luci has been running things without her. Not that I’m complaining, I liked him a hell of a lot more than I ever did our dear brother.”

  
“Why is he here? I thought tonight’s meeting was supposed to just be between those John trusted?”

  
“Well, despite whatever issues John had with him over Michael, he’s apparently proven himself invaluable over the last six months or so, at least once he got Naomi out of the way. Of course, nobody was really that fond of her anyway, so I’m pretty sure no one was that upset when he took over. From what he’s told me, it’s been rather quiet. He asked if you wouldn’t mind stoppin’ by to see him on your way to your weekly poking session.”

  
Castiel glanced at Dean for some kind of guidance; he wasn’t terribly sure about meeting with someone from his old clan, and while Lucifer had never treated him unkindly, he had basically allowed Michael to do as he pleased where his family was concerned, and he didn’t know what meeting with him would accomplish. He had what he wanted, the Novak clan and lands were his, and it seemed odd that he would be interested in meeting with Castiel now. But Dean only looked at him and shrugged, a silent offer of support for whatever Castiel chose to do was all that he was willing to give.

  
“I supposed it couldn’t really hurt to see what he wants.” Gabriel grinned at Castiel’s response, clapping him on the back and pointing him toward one of the smaller cabins near the main house.

  
“Seriously, Cassie, just chill. I know he’s not your favorite person in the world, but just hear him out. He’s leaving in the morning, so make the most of it, will ya?”

  
Castiel gave him a small, half-hearted smile in return, nodding his acquiescence before slowly making his way toward the cabin Gabriel pointed out. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but Dean was by his side, and Gabriel clearly seemed to be okay with Lucifer, and even he wouldn’t dare do anything stupid, not while he was a guest on Winchester lands, at the very least.

  
Lucifer was sitting outside when they finally came up to the cabin, talking amicably with a younger alpha Castiel recognized from the first day of the Gathering, one of the two alphas who had spoken to him before vanishing again. Surprised to see Benny chatting so casually with Lucifer, Castiel approached slowly and quietly, wings shuffling nervously at his back. It wasn’t that he intended to go unnoticed, but the memory of the last time he had seen Lucifer had him freezing in his tracks. Michael’s exile was never a pleasant memory, and he’d managed to forget about it with everything that had happened over the last few months, but seeing Lucifer again brought everything back, just as fresh and painful as when it had been happening.

  
“Cas, you okay?” Dean appeared in front of him, a hand on his cheek as he tried to reassure Castiel.

  
“I’m fine, just—”

  
“Cassie? You actually came! I was worried you weren’t going to, and it’s not like I could blame you, but still. I’m grateful that you came.” Lucifer approached the pair slowly, a genuine smile softening his features.

  
“Of course. You’re family, even if it is by a technicality. You, Gabriel, Hael and Anna are all that’s left of my old family, and I doubt I will see the twins again any time soon.”

  
“Actually, that’s partly why I wanted to talk to you. I’ll be returning to the Pellegrino clan tomorrow morning. I’m sure John will tell you about it soon enough, but their current leader has been removed after being implicated in the MacLeod’s schemes. I already spoke to Gabriel, but he denied any interest in taking over. The twins are far too young, but if you were interested, I think you’d do just fine in leading the clan. Of course, you’d have to move back, so I can understand if you don’t want to.” Lucifer watched him carefully, clearly worried that Castiel might reject him too.

  
“I-you want me to what?” Castiel stared at Lucifer, unsure if he was serious or not. Without Michael there, he was mostly okay with returning home, but he wasn’t sure if he was really up to leading an entire clan. Then there was Dean and his family to worry about. He doubted that Dean would be interested in leaving Winchester lands, even if it was only four hours away. Still, when he glanced over at his mate, Dean didn’t look all that uncomfortable with the idea. Instead, he was watching Castiel quietly, content to let him make his own decisions.

  
“I would have to speak to my mate’s family first, of course, but if you’re serious, then I think I’d like to at least try.” Lucifer’s face lit up almost immediately at Castiel’s response, pulling him in for a hug.

  
“I have faith in you. You’ll do just fine no matter what you choose. Speaking of which, I hear you’re expecting? Haven’t seen a new Novak since the twins were born.” Lucifer pulled away for a moment, and Castiel found himself relaxing around the scent of pleased omega.

  
“Uh, yeah. Twins, actually, about twelve weeks in now.” Castiel pulled away sheepishly, a blush burning his cheeks.

  
“Well, that explains where these came from,” Lucifer reached out, one hand lightly grazing a wing. “I knew when you were younger that you would be different, but I don’t think anyone expected you to turn out the way you did. Everything you’ve been put through, everything you’ve survived, and yet you’re still here, stronger than ever. I...I know you had one hell of a shitty childhood, and I know I never did anything to help that. Hell, if I’m going to be honest, I pretty much had just as much a hand in it as Michael did.

  
“When I was first brought to the Novak clan by my mate, your uncle, Michael was...unstable, to put it nicely. He had this idea that he would take over the clan, and he saw my arrival as a threat to that. When Lilith was born, he got worse. He got violent. He mostly took it out on you and Gabriel, but that was only because your uncle was still around. I knew Michael wanted the clan for himself, and I knew that if I let him, he would destroy it as surely as he tried to destroy you and your brother. I also knew that if I encouraged him just a bit, his true nature would be his own downfall. I knew it was wrong, but I let it happen. Michael was easy enough to manipulate, and while it didn’t work out the way I planned, it did work. Still, I’m sorry I let you and your brother get caught in the crossfire. I knew he was dangerous, but I never let myself think he was so scarring, physically or mentally. Even when I watched him bribe, threaten and pay any alpha with an interest in you to ignore you at every gathering, I still didn't think enough of it. All I saw was the end goal, eliminating someone who wasn't fit to lead. I know an apology doesn’t make up for it, and I’m not asking for forgiveness, but at least know that I’m sincere in offering you your old home. I don’t belong there, you do.”

  
Castiel stared at Lucifer, his confession and apology a complete surprise. Even Dean was silent, watching Lucifer carefully as though he didn’t trust that he was telling the truth. Truth be told, Castiel hadn’t ever really given much thought to Lucifer’s role in his early life. He had never really interacted with the omega, having not been very close with his uncle to begin with. Even when his uncle had died, Lucifer hadn’t had a large role in his life, simply the omega from a different clan who was really good at riling up his brother.

  
“That’s, uh...thank you. Really.” Castiel still wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to say, feeling no less lost and confused than when he had first walked up here. Still, he felt he had to say something, and Lucifer did seem sincere. He wasn’t sure what to make of Lucifer’s confession of how much of a role he’d had in Castiel’s life, and even if it was indirect influence, the thought kind of stung. Still, Lucifer was right, to an extent. He’d survived, and he wasn’t exactly in a bad place now. It might take him time to come to see Lucifer as an ally of sorts, but at the very least, he seemed willing to try to make amends.

  
“Did you know about his deal with Crowley?” Dean’s tone rang of uncertainty, and it was clear he was just as uncomfortable with the confession as Castiel was.

  
“Not until that last night at the gathering. I had suspicions, but with no way to prove them, I didn't dare press the issue. After that night, I knew how badly I had screwed up, and I worked with John to ensure Michael would go down for it. It took some effort to keep Michael from getting suspicious, but it worked. Since then I have continued to work closely with your father, first to remove Naomi and now to hunt down and eliminate what's left of Crowley’s influence.”

  
“That’s-”

  
“Cassie! Where ya been? I was waiting on you, you know.” Pamela appeared right behind the three of them, causing both Dean and Lucifer to flinch.

  
“Apologies, Pamela. I didn’t mean to keep Castiel from his appointment. Castiel, I’ll see you tonight at the meeting, if that’s alright with you.” Lucifer glanced nervously from Pamela to Castiel, clearly still wary of the seer.

  
“Of course. I’ll see you there.”

  
The walk to the main house was slow and unhurried, Castiel still trying to process everything Lucifer had told him. Lucifer’s cabin wasn’t very far from the house, and it felt like no time at all before they were walking into Pamela’s makeshift clinic. It had been fitted with a small table, a chair and some counters lining the far wall, generally stocked with the herbs and mixes she used most. Castiel climbed up on the table while Dean took a seat in the chair next to it. Without prompting, he stripped and laid back, shivering in the slight chill of the room.

  
“Well, you’re feeling a bit thin for twelve weeks, but I’m guessing that’s got a fair bit to do with not being able to keep anything down. I’ll see if I can’t come up with something to help, but in the meantime, just try to eat whatever you can keep down the easiest. Otherwise, everything is still looking good.” Pamela paused in her examination to run a hand down the scar along his chest, sighing when she passed over the damaged tattoos. “You know, I can probably fix these. Might be a good idea to wait until after the pups are here, but it wouldn’t really hurt to get them done now, either. Wouldn’t recommend it for everyone, but everything you’ve been through hasn’t hurt them yet, I highly doubt a little ink would.”

  
“It might not be a bad idea. It is kind uncomfortable to look down and see them scarred.”

  
“I’ll see about getting the supplies in, then. Now, in the meantime, you want to try shifting again? You should have more luck with it by now. Everything’s healed up nicely.”

  
Pamela had him sit up carefully, balancing on the edge. He closed his eyes and focused, finding it considerably harder to do than normal. Still, he started to feel the familiar pinpricks running along his limbs, followed almost immediately by an odd twinge in his spine, which quickly escalated into a sharp pain racing down his back. He felt dizzy and nauseous, and he was vaguely aware of blood dripping down his chin as he tipped forward, unable to keep his balance anymore. He heard Pamela speaking, or maybe shouting. He knew Dean was shouting, but all of it sounded distant and fuzzy, and he couldn’t figure out why. By the time he managed to pry his eyes open, the floor was inches from his face before everything went black.

  
He came to a few minutes later, or at least what he assumed was a few minutes since he was still in the same room with the same two people. He was sitting against the table, being held up by a very worried Dean on one side and Pamela on the other, dabbing at the blood on his face and looking calm as could be despite the obvious scent of panic rolling off of her. He didn’t have long to take in his surroundings before a pounding headache had him squeezing his eyes shut again, trying and failing to curl in on himself to avoid the pain tearing through his skull. Slowly, he became aware of their voices, dim and muffled at first, becoming clearer by the minute.

  
“...you dare, Dean. He can’t be moved yet, don’t even try to. Until I figure out what just happened, he stays right where he is.” He felt rather than saw Pamela moving Dean to the side, her warm hands gripping the sides of his face gently as she examined him. “Cas, you with us? How are you feeling?”  
“Like I just cracked my skull open. The hell happened?” Castiel slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the bright light of the room.

  
“From what I can tell, you don’t have enough of anything left to shift. Looks like your vitals dropped pretty rapidly and it knocked you on your ass. Everything you’ve got is going to your pups, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it does mean you’re not likely to be able to shift back until you’ve had them. You succeeded a little, if it makes you feel better. No more talons and your wings are a bit smaller. I don’t suggest risking another go at it though, no matter how much you want to.” Pamela patted his shoulder before standing up, walking over to a pitcher sitting on the counter and pouring some water into a cup, offering it to him when she walked back. He took it gratefully, sipping slowly while he waited for the headache to finally subside. By the time he was finished, he was feeling considerably better, though still incredibly nauseated.  
“Now then, soon as you feel up to it, you should be able to head home and get some rest. There doesn’t seem to be any lasting damage, but just in case, if you still feel like crap tomorrow, let me know. I should have something for the nausea by then anyways.”

  
***

  
Given that it was still relatively early in the morning, Castiel chose to nap the rest of the day, getting up only when he had to leave for the meeting. He still felt shaky and nauseated, though as of late, that wasn’t all that unusual. Rather than worrying Dean with it, he acted as though he was fine. By the time they made it back down to the clearing he was feeling better. Not well enough to eat anything, much to Dean’s annoyance, but well enough that he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out any time soon. He noticed Gabriel and John watching him carefully when they walked into the meeting room. Clearly word of his earlier incident had already spread. As he and Dean took their seats next to John, Lucifer walked in behind them, taking a seat at the other end of the table. He glanced at Castiel for a moment with a small smile before turning his attention back to John.

  
“Thank you all for coming. I apologize for the late hour, but in light of recent events, I felt it necessary.” John looked around the room, glancing at Castiel a second longer than usual. “After the incident with Crowley last month, I had several members of my clan, along with a few volunteers, clear out the mine after it caved in and interrogate any survivors. We recently finished and managed to find some useful information from the few people left alive. The MacLeods managed to influence and coerce several clan leaders into working under them. We have been working on removing those still loyal to Crowley, and while it has been proving rather difficult, the majority of his group have been outed and removed.

  
“That being said, we have a serious problem. Only a few people were still alive after the cave-in, mostly just members of the rogue pack that used to live there prior to Crowley taking over. Rowena was discovered among the dead, but we couldn’t find any trace of Crowley. As far as we can tell, he’s most likely still alive.”

  
“What do you propose we do about him?” Lucifer spoke up from his end of the table, concern clearly written on his face. “I can postpone returning to my clan for the time being, if needed.”

  
“I thank you for your consideration, but you will be able to do far more good within your own clan. Gordon was one of Crowley’s loyalists, and I’m concerned about the effect he may have had on the remaining members. I need you to keep an eye on them and weed out anyone who might still be a threat.”

  
“Of course. But, if you need me here, just let me know. Speaking of which, Castiel, did you come to a decision?”  
He had thought about it, at least for the short time he was awake, and he knew what he wanted to do. What it really came down to was whether his mate was willing to go with him.

  
“I have, and so long as Dean is willing to join me, I would like to return to my own clan. With Lucifer leaving, they are currently without a leader, and since Gabriel declined, I am the next in line.”

  
“But what about my family? I’m supposed to take over for my dad when he retires, and I really don’t know about leaving my brothers behind.” Dean looked conflicted, unable to look either Castiel or John in the eye. It was a far cry from how he had looked when it had been brought up earlier, and Castiel was scared it meant he had changed his mind completely.

  
“Nonsense, boy. Sam can take over for me just as well as you could, and you’d only be four hours away. I don’t see why you couldn’t visit whenever you wanted. Truth be told, it would be best if Castiel were to take over his old clan. The more allies we have, the better. With Lucifer and Benny keeping an eye on things in the south, the Campbells in the east and the Harvelles looking after the west, we will be able to keep things running smoothly here in the north.” John smiled and winked at Castiel, offering him what support he could.

  
“Dean, if you don’t want to go, that’s fine. My sisters will be of age soon, I’m sure they could—”

  
“No, Cas. It’s fine. If my dad thinks we should do it, then let’s do it. My biggest concern is being away from my family, but he’s right. It’s only a few hours away. I think I can handle that.” Dean watched Castiel nervously, clearly concerned that he had upset Castiel with his reluctance to leave.

  
“It’s settled then. Lucifer, you are returning to your clan tomorrow, and Castiel, you should prepare to leave in a couple of weeks. It should be enough time to get everything in order before you head home.” John stood to leave, nodding to everyone in dismissal. As everyone filed out the door, John called to Castiel.

  
“You wanted to speak to me?”

  
“Yes. Unfortunately, when we were clearing out the mine, we found Meg among the dead. The only thing we can figure is that Crowley killed her when she returned to the mine. I’m sorry, Castiel. She saved you. She didn’t deserve to die.” John pulled him into a hug, his scent an odd combination of comforting and concerned.

  
“It’s...well, it’s not okay, but it will be.” Castiel pulled back, conflicting emotions warring for dominance. “I think I just need some time. I’ll be fine.”

  
“Whatever you need. Go home and get some sleep, Castiel. It’s been a rough day.”

  
With a nod and a small smile that only felt partly forced, Castiel turned and followed everyone else out. He felt numb, unable and unwilling to think about any one thing at a time. He should be thrilled to be returning home, but Lucifer’s admissions and guilt still left a bitter taste. He knew he had felt sorrow, when he had learned that Meg was killed, but it felt wrong to dwell on it when he himself was still alive and well and with his mate. He should be happy that Lucifer had found a way to redeem himself, but he was concerned about what it might cost him. He should be concerned that Crowley was still alive, but with everything else going on, it was the last thing on his mind.

  
He was so caught up in his own thoughts he hadn't even noticed that he had made it home, and had been staring blankly at the front door instead of going in. He hadn't noticed that Dean had not followed him, had probably stayed behind to speak to his father and was only just now coming up behind him, speaking rapidly with panic obvious in his voice. He hadn't even noticed that his wings had dropped and were dragging the ground, reflective of just how lost he was feeling.

  
“Cas? Cas, speak to me, please! You're scaring me here, please just say something!”

  
Castiel jumped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder before turning around and burying his face in his mate’s neck, whispering apologies and shivering when Dean wrapped his arms around him.

  
“It's okay, I've got you. You just scared me, is all. You didn't even grab your coat, and it's freezing out here. Just come inside, Cas. Everything will be fine.”

  
Once inside Dean immediately guided him to their bedroom, encouraging him to strip and wrap himself with a blanket that had been warmed by the fireplace. Before he could shuffle his wings under it too, Dean made him pause, gently lifting one of the feathered appendages and pulling it over his lap.

  
“No offense, Cas, but your wings are filthy. At least let me clean them first. Please.” At Castiel’s nod of acceptance, Dean started carding through the feathers, pulling a few sticks and clumps of mud out and straightening them as best he could. The gentle touch had Castiel relaxing for the first time that day, his eyes slipping closed as he concentrated on the sensation. The closer Dean made it to his back the more it slipped from soothing to something else, and while he hadn't been completely sure he would even want to do anything after the day's events, every movement from Dean was rapidly helping to change his mind.

  
He couldn't help the low groan when Dean grazed over the oil gland, fresh oil dripping onto his feathers and down his back. Dean almost stopped at the sound, clearly worried about pushing Castiel into something he wasn't ready for, but a gentle nudge from the wing he had been working on seemed to satisfy his concerns as he resumed his task with considerably more enthusiasm.

  
By the time Dean had finished cleaning and grooming the first wing, Castiel was well on his way to losing what little self control he had. When Dean had finished with the second wing, Castiel was was a panting mess, refraining from shoving Dean onto his back by the skin of his teeth. Dean seemed to realize just how close he really was to losing it completely and politely refrained from pushing him further, at least until he heard Castiel begging softly under his breath.

  
“What was that, love? Gotta speak up if you want something.”

  
“Please fuck me.”

  
“I have a better idea. Been thinking about it for a while, but now seems as good a time as any. Hell, you're the leader of your own clan now. Technically, you outrank me. I think it's time you fucked me.”

  
“You want me to do what?” It was virtually unheard of for an alpha to willingly let an omega dominate them in such a manner, though if he was going to be honest, he really didn't have a whole lot of contact with other omegas to get much of a fair of what was normal and what wasn’t.

  
“I want you to fuck me. You are okay with that, aren't you? If you aren't, I understand. I can wait until you're ready.”

  
“I'm more than okay with it, it's just a bit of a surprise, that's all. You've never expressed an interest before.”

  
“I know I haven't, but like I said, I've been thinking about it for some time, and I know it might be a bit unconventional, but if I was ever going to do that with anyone, it would be you. I trust you.”

  
That was really all Castiel needed, folding his wings against his back as fast as he could and spinning to pin Dean to their bed. He found Dean's lips quickly, pressing one messy, desperate kiss after another against them. Dean opened willingly to him, knees parting and falling to the side as he carefully pressed himself against Castiel’s hips. Castiel swallowed every little sound greedily, slick leaking freely as he traced every inch of his mate with the hand that wasn't supporting his weight. He couldn't believe Dean was giving him such a gift, the image of an alpha completely and always in control burned into his memory. He had never even allowed himself to think such a thing might be possible, completely content to remain the perfect submissive. Even so, he found himself responding to the very idea the same as if Dean had suggested the normal way of things.

  
Castiel soaked a couple of fingers in his own slick, pressing them against his mate’s rim carefully, tracing the puckered ring of muscle as only Dean had showed him countless times before. When he breached his mate with one finger, Dean arched against him with a quiet moan, pushing down against the intrusion as though he couldn't get enough. Castiel slowly worked it in and out of him, adding a second finger only when Dean seemed acclimated to the first. With a confidence he hadn't thought he'd be able to muster, he stretched his mate open carefully, working him as wide open as possible before retreating to add more slick, pressing a third finger in as he did. When he pressed against Dean’s prostate, his mate practically flew off the mattress, all but screaming Castiel’s name.

  
When he felt Dean was sufficiently prepared, he pulled away, wings stretched behind him in a rather surprising dominant display. He lined himself up with Dean’s hole, pressing in slowly and carefully, bottoming out rather quickly with a groan mirrored by Dean. He gave his mate a moment to adjust before pulling out nearly all the way, thrusting back in as the new sensation threatened to overwhelm him. Dean cried out as he set a fast pace, unable to control himself any longer. Dean’s hands ran along his sides to bury themselves in feathers, pressing relentlessly against the glands hidden against his skin, encouraging him to move even faster. He nipped the skin of Dean’s neck, holding back from biting down as hard as he could.

  
“Fuck, Cas, harder! Feels so fucking good.”

  
“If you insist, Dean.” Castiel increased the pace, panting hard against his mate’s neck as he fought to hold himself back. Dean was thrusting against him in perfect rhythm, every delicious sound muffled against the skin of Castiel’s shoulder.

  
“Don't hold yourself back, Dean. I want to hear every little sound you make. I want to hear it as you come undone by my hand.” It seemed to be all Dean needed to do just that and become completely undone, coming against Castiel’s stomach with a shout. Castiel himself wasn't too far behind, slamming in as hard as he could before emptying himself into Dean, thrusting weakly against his mate as they both came down from their own high.

  
“Shit, Cas, that was fucking awesome. Remind me to do that again some time.”

  
“As you wish, Dean. It was quite the experience. I certainly wouldn't mind doing it again.” Castiel nuzzled against Dean’s neck, content to ignore the mess they had made for the time being in favor of giving into the urge to fall asleep against Dean. His mate had other ideas however, getting up and leaving the room quickly, returning with a damp rag to wipe them both down before returning to their previous position, gladly entangling their limbs as he made sure there wasn't an inch of space between them as they both drifted off.


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you guys didn't think I up and abandoned this, though since it's been a few months since I've posted anything, I damn near did. I've moved, picked up a bajillion hours at work (70 in a week sounds fun, it's not, not with what I do), did a whole bunch of other stuff and this kinda just got pushed by the wayside, even though half of it's been done and ready since August. Since it has been so long, it really didn't quite feel like it was my best work, bu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you guys didn't think I up and abandoned this, though since it's been a few months since I've posted anything, I damn near did. I've moved, picked up a bajillion hours at work (70 in a week sounds fun, it's not, not with what I do), did a whole bunch of other stuff and this kinda just got pushed by the wayside, even though half of it's been done and ready since August. Since it has been so long, it really didn't quite feel like it was my best work, but I tend to feel that way about anything I write, so I figured I'd post it anyway and see how it goes, for all five of you reading this. There is only one chapter left, and I'm desperately hoping I don't end up having to take another three month break before it comes out.
> 
> Unbeta'd, if and when it gets edited (not like I didn't read through it five times) I'll repost the edited version.

Castiel stared at what little was left of their bedroom. Most of what they were keeping was already packed and loaded into the car Dean insisted they were taking (and how Castiel had never seen it before was beyond him-it was big and black and loud), and he was working on what little remained. They were leaving in a few days to head back to his childhood home, and Castiel still wasn't too sure how he really felt about it. Pamela had left with Gabriel a few days ago to get everything ready for their arrival. Sam planned on coming out with them and staying for a couple of weeks, partly to act as an ambassador for the Winchester clan and partly to spend as much time with his brother as possible before they wouldn't see each other for a few months. The Gathering was tentatively scheduled for the end of April, possibly May since it was being hosted by the Novak clan this year. It was initially supposed to be hosted by one of the eastern clans, but due to the recent removal of the MacLeod influence and Dean’s unwillingness to let Castiel travel very far, he had volunteered. Current estimates for attendance were rather low, so he didn't figure it would be too difficult to plan for.

As he stuffed a few more bits of their spare bedding into a large leather case, he turned his thoughts to how his old clan members might receive his returning as their leader. Many had been supportive of Michael, and there were at least a few who wouldn't take kindly to being led by an omega. There had been some who didn't like his brother at all, though Castiel had his doubts as to how many of them were still around. At best he would be met with indifference upon his return; at worst, outright hostility would greet him. If the latter ended up being the case, the Winchesters would step in and help enforce his position, though they were all hoping it wouldn't be necessary to take such measures. Even with the reassurances of everyone around him, Castiel still couldn't help but worry. He had spent a lot of time over the last couple of weeks with John, going over everything he might need to know about running a clan. He knew he was at a disadvantage , being twenty one and never exposed to what went into keeping a clan going. Michael has seen it as unnecessary and inappropriate to teach him any of it, and he hadn't thought there would be much of a need to learn his first few months here. Fortunately it wasn't quite as difficult as he had initially feared, and he had caught on quickly. 

Once he had cleared out their bedroom of everything, Castiel dragged the case out to the living room, shutting the bedroom door behind him with a sigh. There wasn't much left in the house at all, though the furniture would be staying as Castiel’s old house was still fully furnished. He could finish by tonight easily, leaving tomorrow and the day after to rest and say their goodbyes.

Dean almost seemed more apprehensive about leaving than Castiel did, although he could understand why. Castiel had had years of being told constantly that he was going to be shipped off at the first opportunity. Years of being told he wouldn't be able to continue living at home, that the omega always lives wherever his alpha lived. It wasn't that odd, omegas often lived with their Alpha rather than the other way around. Dean, however, had only had a couple of weeks to get used to the idea of leaving his home behind for good. He had every reason to be uncomfortable with it. Even so, Dean refused every attempt Castiel made at reminding him that they didn't have to leave. Despite Dean’s discomfort , he was determined to do what he thought was best for Castiel. 

Dean showed up multiple times throughout the day, once for launch and a few times just to check on Castiel. The more obviously pregnant he looked the more protective Dean became. His mate tried to keep from smothering Castiel with his alpha tendencies, but Castiel saw no reason to do so, often encouraging him to indulge in his instincts. Dean didn't stay long any of the times he stopped by, just long enough to attempt to help Castiel pack, however unsuccessfully. For the most part he was moved out of the way and used as a much needed distraction, keeping Castiel from thinking about the days ahead. 

Castiel finished packing everything far later than he intended to, long after Dean finished working on his car and long after it had gotten dark outside. He threw the last case by the door to be loaded tomorrow evening and joined Dean on the couch, curling into his mate and relaxing as the familiar scent of spiced citrus enveloped him. They sat like that for hours, not talking, not really moving, just taking comfort in each other while they could. Once they made it to Novak lands, there wouldn't be time for much of anything beyond pack business, at least until things settled down. With that in mind, they spent the rest of the night tangled up in each other in every way possible, falling asleep a few hours before dawn.

***

While Dean was putting the finishing touches on his car and getting it loaded the next day, Castiel decided to spend his last day here wandering through the woods. He'd been on enough hunts over the fall to know his way around without getting lost and he didn't intend on going too far out anyway. The snow had melted a few weeks ago, and while it wasn't exactly warm, it wasn't the bitter cold that had had plagued them most of the winter. He wrapped one of the new coats around himself and headed out, taking one of the trails he had scouted out on some of his shifted hunts. He made it about a mile out before he stopped for a short break, leaning against a tree as he took in his surroundings. The breeze smelled sharp and cold, damp bark and rotting leaves mixed with the occasional scent of a passing animal all he could make out from the multitude of scents that permeated the forest. He caught the underlying scent of something that made him feel nauseated and nervous, but given that it was almost a regular feeling by now, he shrugged it off and kept moving. He made it another mile before he decided to loop around and make his way back, using a path that should take him past the cabin he and Dean spent their first week together in. 

He could just about see the spring that they had housed when they were at the cabin when the nauseating scent that had been following him since he had paused after the first mile hit him full force, bringing him to a halt as he struggled not to gag. Fear was creeping into the back of his mind as the realization of why the scent was so familiar hit him. He recovered quickly and picked up the pace, hoping he could make it back before he was noticed. He knew that scent far too well, and was not keen on seeing the person behind it any time soon.

Steam was rising from the spring, blanketing the small clearing in a thin layer of fog. The scent was muted by the layer of dampness that permeated everything, and for a moment Castiel thought he might have managed to give Crowley the slip, or at least discouraged him from following so close to the main clearing. He stopped against one of the trees close to the water’s edge, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He felt lightheaded and nauseous, panic keeping him from thinking as clearly as he should have. His knee ached and his chest throbbed with phantom pain, his heart pounding hard enough that he couldn't hear anything else, at least not until it was too late. The pungent scent sharpened without warning as footsteps sounded just behind him. Castiel turned,only to be slammed sideways to the ground before he could face his attacker. He was pinned face down in the mud at the spring’s edge, one arm pulled behind him in a sickeningly familiar manner, the laugh of the man holding him down as infuriating as the first day he had heard it. Castiel fought against him, wings beating uselessly against the ground as he tried to twist out of the alpha’s grip. Fear consumed his thoughts as the stench of the alpha above him blanketed his senses.

“Now, now, Castiel. You should know by now that it does you no good to struggle. You've been mine for years, and it's time you accepted it. You've played at being that Winchester bastard’s whore for long enough, and it ends now.” Crowley pulled him up just far enough from the mud to rip his coat from his shoulders, keeping his arm pinned behind him and his wings pressed down with his weight. It didn't stop Castiel from struggling, though it did stop him from getting anywhere with it, and he was quickly wearing himself out with his fruitless efforts. He froze completely when Crowley tore his shirts, leaving his shoulders and chest bared to the elements. Tremors ran along his spine as his mind raced with panic, unable to think of a way out. He stopped thinking entirely when a hand gripped his hair tightly and jerked his head to the left, exposing his neck and shoulder completely. He was shaking hard, fear and vivid memories of the pain the alpha had caused him before mixed with years of conditioning from Michael keeping him from fighting back, at least until he felt teeth sinking into the point between his shoulder and his neck. Blood flowed freely down his torso to soak into his shirts, the bite far too deep and bleeding at a rather alarming rate. 

Time seemed to stand still as the realization of what Crowley had done sank in, and it was like a switch had been flipped. He felt his nails lengthen back into talons, an involuntary defense mechanism triggered by the perceived threat. He twisted his pinned arm painfully to dig into Crowley’s wrist, some deep, primal part of him reveling in the sharp yelp of pain as Crowley quickly let him go in surprise. He use the sudden freedom to slam upwards into Crowley, flinging the alpha off of him and into the spring. He made to dive after the man, but Crowley was far faster than he gave him credit for, and Crowley was halfway out of the water and pulling Castiel in before the omega could even stand. He gasped at the shock of the cool water before he was shoved under completely, his wings quickly becoming a cumbersome, waterlogged hindrance as he struggled to right himself. He lashed out blindly as he fought to breach the surface, a small thrill running through him when a talon connected with flesh that wasn't his. Even so, Crowley held him under, the water slowly turning pink with their blood.

As soon as he started to get desperate for air, his mindless attempts to break the alpha’s grip slowing dramatically, he was dragged out of the water by a wing. Crowley gripped the sodden feathers in a tight hold, slamming Castiel into the cold mud and holding him there. He flinched and squirmed when Crowley straddled his torso, the pressure on his abdomen slipping past uncomfortable and going straight into painfully dangerous territory. When Crowley wrapped his hands around Castiel’s throat, he felt his body fighting for every breath he had failed to catch while his hands scrabbled weakly at Crowley’s arms, leaving red gashes but doing little else to deter the alpha. With one last shallow, gasping breath, he shoved his entire body forward against Crowley’s weight, wings slamming painfully hard into the muddy earth to give him some extra momentum. Crowley was thrown off balance, and it was all Castiel needed to flip their positions, adrenaline doing most of the work for him by then. He wasted no time digging his talons into the alpha’s jugular vein, breathing a sigh of relief when blood started pouring over his fingers. 

Castiel didn’t move until he was positive Crowley was dead, the alpha still and unmoving, eyes staring up at nothing. Once he was sure, he slid off, rolling onto his back as he waited for his head to stop spinning. All too soon, he became aware of just how violently he was shivering, and with a groan, he struggled to his feet. Wrapping his soaked and muddied wings around the tattered remains of his coat and shirts he headed away from the spring, stumbling on every other step.

He hadn’t even made it to the cabin near the spring before he tripped and fell to his knees, gagging as bile rose in his throat at the realization of what had just happened. His shoulder radiated agony as the adrenaline wore off, blood dripping from the bite onto the cold dirt below him. He pushed the thought of the mark to the back of his mind, getting to his feet with what little energy he had left, making his way to the first relatively warm place he could reach. Castiel barely made it to the door of the cabin, falling through it more than actually walking and collapsing a few feet inside. He was shivering so hard he couldn’t even see straight, his wings and clothing soaked through and doing little to stave off the cold. Desperate for some kind of warmth, he all but crawled to the fireplace, the bed long since stripped and bare. Unfortunately, the fireplace had been left just as empty, little left but ash and charred wood remaining. With a sigh, Castiel wrapped what was left of his clothing tightly around his shoulders, tucking his wings over so they covered as much of his front as possible. He leaned against the wall nearest the fireplace, still shivering hard. He only intended to rest for a moment, warm up a little and start making his way back, but before he was even aware of it, his exhaustion got the better of him and he drifted off into unconsciousness.

***

The sound of someone else near him startled Castiel awake, panic making his heart race as he shot up, immediately dropping back down into a hunched ball. He glared at the intruder for a moment from behind his mud caked feathers before he realized who it was, his mate’s scent finally hitting him and calming him almost immediately. He breathed a sigh of relief, pulling his wings back and shivering as the mud and damp still clinging to him chilled him to the core. He glanced down at his bared chest, blood crusted and covering most of his bare skin. At the memory of why he was covered in blood, his heart dropped to his stomach and turned to ice. He dropped his gaze to the floor, shaking for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t look Dean in the eye, choosing instead to stare at a random knot in the wood flooring.

“Cas? We found Crowley, are you okay? You’re covered in blood. He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Dean dropped to his knees in front of Castiel, running his hands along every exposed inch of blood and dirt caked skin. When his hand brushed over the fresh bite mark on his shoulder, Castiel flinched back violently, curling in on himself as much as possible. He tried to pull away from Dean completely, shame and fear clouding his senses. Dean was persistent though, hushing him softly and pulling him back gently. This time when Dean touched the bite, Castiel sat still, though the fear of his mate’s reaction was still at the forefront of his thoughts.

“I-I’m sorry, I should have fought harder, I shouldn’t have gone out alone, I should have known, I should have been able to-”

“Did he-is this a claiming bite? Cas no, this isn’t your fault. Crowley was a sick fuck, he’s the one who did this. I’m not mad at you, I don’t blame you, I’m not gonna reject or or any of the other things I know you’re thinking right now. It’s gonna be okay, I promise, and-shit you’re cold. Like deathly cold. Here. Get these off and put this on, it’ll keep you at least a little bit warm until we get back to the house.” Dean stripped Castiel of his soaked and tattered shirts, pulling his own coat off and draping it over the omega, pulling him into a gentle hug. The relief Castiel felt had him shifting into the embrace eagerly, the warmth of Dean’s body so close to his doing wonders to calm his nerves. He had been terrified of Dean’s reaction, despite his mate never once showing an inclination to behave so brashly. It didn’t erase what had happened, but it did reassure him that Dean would be there for him.

“Dean, did you find him? I couldn’t see anything out there-oh!” Sam’s sudden appearance in the doorway startled Castiel, but even with the warmth from his mate surrounding him, he found himself too cold and too tired to care for longer than it took to recognize him. “Cas, are you gonna be okay? You’re not hurt too badly, are you? Do you need me to help with anything?”

“Sam, I’ve got him, it’s okay. I need you to run ahead to the main house, get Missouri down there and get a bath ready. He’s soaked and freezing, and I wanna warm him up as soon as possible.” Dean moved to help Castiel stand, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and chest. As soon as Castiel straightened his torso, he felt a sharp pain rip across his abdomen, forcing him to drop back down and curl back into himself with a gasp. A fresh wave of panic took over, his shaking hands reaching down unsteadily to pull Dean’s coat and his shirt away from his swollen belly. He almost didn’t want to look, the pain a dull throb that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Bruises were forming around the tattoo, red and black blossoming up to just under his ribs. He knew what it meant, his hand tentatively coming to rest just under the largest part of the swell as if it might change anything. He choked back a sob, pressing tightly against Dean as he tried to calm his racing heart. 

“Fuck...Sam, we need to move now.” Dean scooped Castiel up like he weighed nothing, pulling him tightly to his chest as he stood and moved to follow his brother out the door. He ran as fast as he possibly could through the woods, whispering encouragement and soothing nonsense as they went. Castiel just gripped him tighter, focusing on breathing through the fear that threatened to overtake everything. He closed his eyes to everything around him, letting the scent of his mate wrap around him.

It seemed like no time at all before Dean was barging through the front door of the main house, moving down the hallway and into the room Pamela had converted into a makeshift clinic near the back. He set Castiel down on the table, holding his hand as he took his place near his head. Missouri came in right after them, immediately moving to expose Castiel’s stomach and shoulder. They could hear Sam a room or two down the hall, starting a bath in an effort to keep busy. Missouri worked quickly, running her hands over the tattoo starting to stretch along with his skin. 

“You’re lucky Pamela knew what she was doing with that mark, boy. They’re still hanging in there, though it’s gonna be touch and go for a while. I want you off your feet as much as possible, and that includes when you get home. I hate to say it, but that’s gonna have to go for the rest of your pregnancy, or even that tattoo won’t stop the worst from happening. This was a damn close call, and I mean close.” Missouri gently rubbed his belly before moving up to his shoulder, prompting Dean to grab a cloth from the counter behind him and soak it in a bowl of water before handing it to her and tightening his grip on Castiel’s hand as she started to clean the bite. “As for your shoulder, it’s a nasty mess, but a few stitches and you should be alright.”

Castiel let out a quiet sob, relief and fear flooding through him. He had almost lost everything, still might lose the lives so dependent on him, and he had allowed himself to be violated by Crowley. He was grateful Dean was so understanding, so calm and supportive, but he still blamed himself, and he would bear the scars of his failure to protect himself for the rest of his life. Dean only held him tighter, whispering softly in his ear that he was okay, that it wasn’t his fault while Missouri worked to clean the bite and stitch it.

When she was done, she helped Castiel sit up slowly, her hand rubbing his shoulder comfortingly before she lifted his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye.

“It wasn’t your fault, Castiel. None of it was. The only mark that matters is the one your mate gave you. Don’t let a lie come between you and him, you hear me?”

With a silent nod from him, she patted his cheek once before letting him go. He slumped back into Dean, a general feeling of numbness settling over him like a thick blanket. He allowed Dean to carefully maneuver him off of the table, biting back a grunt of pain as he put weight on his knee. Dean noticed immediately and moved to help support him, holding most of his weight as they slowly started for the door.

“Oh, Dean? Before you go, I got a small list of rules you’re gonna have to follow, too. It’s gonna be up to you to take care of Cas for the remainder of his pregnancy, and I don’t wanna hear from Pamela that you’re not following them. I’ll write everything down for you, but top of the list is no knotting and no walking anywhere unless it’s absolutely necessary. I’d say no sex altogether, but as long as you’re careful and don’t get him too worked up, the stress release will do him good. Now, get him in that bath, cleaned off and back home in bed. It’ll be a few days before I think either of you will be good to travel anywhere, so make the best of it.”

With that, Dean helped Castiel hobble down the hallway to the bath where Sam had already filled the tub with steaming hot water, the main house being one of the few places on the land with running heated water. Sam stuck around long enough to make sure they were both okay before ducking out quickly, no doubt to find John and fill him in on everything that had happened. Dean slowly stripped the remaining clothes from Castiel, still soaked and clinging to him like a second skin. He sucked in a breath at the sight of the blood covering Castiel’s pants, a small trickle running down the inside of his thigh once they were removed. The tattoo stretched across his belly seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, a faint warmth spreading from it to wrap around his middle. 

Slowly, carefully, Dean helped lower him into the tub, grimacing as the water immediately turned a rusty brownish color. Castiel was grateful that the bathtub was extraordinarily large when Dean forced his wings under too, gently scrubbing mud and blood from the feathers before wiping it off of his skin too, draining the tub and refilling it when his skin was no longer coated in filth. He relaxed into the heat, his limbs tingling as the chill was finally replaced with warmth. Dean didn’t complain once about how long he stayed submerged under the water, instead just rubbing his back and shoulders for a bit before disappearing down the hall for a moment and returning with a set of dry, clean clothes and a towel. When the water started to cool off, he helped Castiel stumble out of the tub, rubbing him dry while helping him to stand. Dean was extra gentle around his shoulder and throat, and just as gentle when he helped him get dressed. He wrapped a blanket around Castiel’s shoulders and wings and scooped him up before he even had a chance to protest, carrying him out the door and out of the house without a word.

Despite Castiel’s feeble protests, Dean insisted on carrying him the entire long, cold walk back to their home. He barely let Castiel open the door, slamming it shut with his hip and walking back to their room. He deposited Castiel carefully on the bed, pulling the covers out from under him and wrapping him up in them on top of the blanket from the bath. Castiel sighed and burrowed into the warmth, eyes slipping shut not long after he felt Dean slide into the bed behind him.

***

Everything hurt when he woke up. His wings protested movement of any kind, his throat felt like sandpaper and his stomach throbbed with every breath. Dean was a solid weight behind him though, one hand wrapped around his waist to rest on the swell of his belly while the other was tangled in feathers. Unfortunately, he really had to pee, which meant that he would have to try to wiggle his way out from under both Dean and two layers of blankets. He made it out of Dean’s grip and was about halfway out from under the blankets before Dean woke up, grumbling and grabbing for him with his eyes closed. When he couldn’t find Castiel, he immediately sat up, looking around blearily before spotting the omega sitting near the edge of the bed. 

“W’cha doin’, Cas?” Dean let out a jaw-cracking yawn as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “You’re supposed to stay in bed.”

“I have to go to the bathroom. It’s just down the hall, I’ll be fine, Dean.” Castiel tried to stand, hissing as his knee gave out from under him, forcing him to put his weight against the wall. Dean immediately flung himself across the bed to catch him.

“No, Cas. I’ll help you. I know you probably really don’t want my help, but you need it, and it’ll make me feel better. So please, just let me help you so we can get back to bed faster.”

With a sigh, Castiel relented, leaning his weight against his mate and letting Dean guide him down the hall. He finished as quickly as he could, already missing the warmth of their bed. He was grateful to find he wasn’t bleeding anymore, feeling a small bit of relief at the knowledge. It was one less thing to be worried about, though he knew it wasn’t an indication of everything being okay, not by a long shot.

He all but dove back into the bed, all the aches and stiffness dulling a bit as he relaxed into both the mattress and his mate. He was completely intent on simply going back to sleep, but Dean pulled him into a soft kiss that got deeper and deeper when neither was willing to let the other go. His hands wandered across the warm expanse of his alpha’s skin without him thinking about it, taking in everything he had been so afraid of losing earlier. Dean was more than happy to accommodate him, shifting as close as he could while running his hands through the soft feathers closest to Castiel’s back. He let out a groan when Dean hit a particularly sensitive spot, rocking his hips against his alpha in short, awkward thrusts given how swollen his belly had gotten. Dean responded in kind, one hand slipping down to gently grip Castiel’s thigh, lifting it so he could slot his own between the omega’s legs. 

The new position gave Castiel something to rut against without straining too much, and he gladly tilted his head back and exposed his throat, bruises and all, when Dean started nosing and nipping at his jawline and the soft, sensitive parts of his neck. Dean hesitated when he got to the junction between neck and shoulder, his breath hot against his claiming mark. Castiel had no reservations about it however, the mere presence of his mate enough to override any fear he had at the thought of teeth against his skin. He knew what he wanted-what he needed-and he was determined to convince Dean of it.

“I want you to mark me again.”

“Cas-” Dean was silenced by Castiel pressing a finger against his lips, followed with a soft, almost chaste kiss.

“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re going to say, and before you do, I want you to know that I’m okay. I was terrified of losing you Dean, however irrational that fear may have been. I was scared you’d reject me with another alpha’s mark on me. Having you renew your claim...I need the reassurance that you still want me, that you’re willing to overwrite someone else’s claim. I know it may be stupid and insecure, but it’s what I want.”

Dean stared at him for a moment, his gaze never wavering. Castiel couldn’t read any of the emotions that flitted across his face, nor could he scent them, and he began to worry that he might have pushed for too much, too fast. Before he could back away in embarrassment, Dean pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face in Castiel’s neck. Dean leaned back just far enough to look Castiel in the eyes, his own slightly damp with unshed tears.

“Okay. But on one condition. I want you to mark me too.”

“You want me to what?” Castiel could only stare at him in disbelief. He’d never heard of such a thing, not even among the more progressive couples he’d known.

“I want you to leave your own claiming bite. We never did it right the first time around, and I wanna make up for it this time, but I want you to claim me too. I know when we first met you weren’t exactly ecstatic about being mated to anybody, and if I’m going to be honest, there are times I’m still worried that I forced you into it, that if you’d had an actual choice, that you wouldn’t have chosen me. I guess what I really want is the same thing as you. I want the reassurance that despite everything, you’re choosing me now of your own free will.”

“Dean, you...you never said…”

“I tried not to think about it. I just tried to make you as happy as I could, hoping that one day you might not regret being forced to be claimed by me to escape Crowley.” Dean dropped his head back down to Castiel’s neck, breathing deeply to try and calm himself down. His head shot back up abruptly when Castiel started chuckling softly, confusion obvious in both scent and features.

“Dean, if you had bothered to ask me, I’d have gladly told you that I’d had a crush on you for years. Yeah, maybe I didn’t want to be mated so early, and if I’d had an actual choice, I’d have waited a few more years, but you were the only one I was ever interested in, even when I was younger. You didn’t force me into anything, the laws and my brother did. I’d have always chosen you.” The relief that burst through Dean’s scent was strong enough that Castiel could almost taste it, and he didn’t complain when he was pulled into another bone-crushing hug.

“So that means you’ll mark me too?”

“Yeah, I’ll mark you too. Warning you now though, it hurts like a bitch.” With that Dean gladly picked up where they left off, biting and licking a line down Castiel’s neck with more urgency than he’d ever shown, their need to reaffirm their claim on each other pushing them to the edge in record time. Castiel hit the brink first, the feeling of Dean’s teeth sinking into his skin again dulled by his orgasm. It still hurt like hell, but the pain mixed with the pleasure like it was supposed to, leaving him a bit dazed as he slowly came back down. Dean wasn’t too far behind him, and Castiel had to work at it to clear his head enough to bite at the right moment. As soon as he felt Dean lock up against him, he sank his own teeth into the point between neck and shoulder, the same place Dean had marked him. The feeling was strange, no instincts to guide him, no way to know if he had done it properly. The taste of Dean’s blood on his tongue was odd, only the subtle taste of his mate’s familiar citrus tang keeping him from recoiling in fear that he had hurt Dean.

They lay there panting against each other for a few moments, Dean coming down from his high, Castiel just trying to calm his nerves. When Dean had finally caught his breath, he pulled Castiel into a deep kiss, the combined taste of their blood faint but noticeable, and not entirely off-putting. Dean got up to get them something to clean up with, returning as fast as he could and wiping any remaining come and blood from Castiel before himself. He let the cloth fall to the floor beside the bed, muttering to himself about remembering to grab it in the morning as he drew Castiel back into his embrace. Just as Castiel was about to drift off, Dean chuckled against his throat, causing the omega to look up at him blearily.

“You know? You were right. That did hurt like a bitch.”


	16. The End as we Know It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. The big grand finale. At least for this part. Starting next year, this will be part of a small series. For now, I'm taking the rest of the year off.
> 
> A huge thanks to everyone who helped me finish this. Your comments, love and support convinced me to actually finish it. Seriously. I can't tell you how much I love you guys.
> 
> Currently unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

They left for the Novak territory only a few days after they had intended to, Missouri hesitantly giving them clearance only after she threatened Dean a few times and made Sam promise to take it easy on the four hour drive. They had all agreed it was best to let him do the driving, leaving Dean free to keep Castiel as comfortable and calm as possible. It was a relatively uneventful trip, though Castiel couldn’t help but feel nervous the closer they got to his birth lands. Gabriel and Pamela had already been warned of everything that had happened, and plans had been made to ensure Castiel’s return would be a quiet affair. As had been expected, not everyone was thrilled that he was returning, and plenty more weren’t happy about being led by an omega, especially one with an alpha mate, though many had seemed torn between which irked them more, an outsider alpha or his omega being in charge, at least according to the last bit of news Pamela had sent before they were set to leave.

 

By the time the Novak territory came into view, Castiel could feel himself close to a panic. He still bore the bruises and scars of his brush with the MacLeod pack, he still walked with a limp and he was expected to lead his clan while on bedrest for the next four or five months. Only the fact that he was with Dean and would be through all of it kept him from changing his mind last minute and begging to go back. Instead he leaned heavily into his mate, seeking what comfort he could as they drove through the final stretch of their journey.

 

“You alright Cas? You’re looking kind of pale.” Dean leaned down to plant a kiss against his forehead, rubbing his shoulder gently.

 

“I feel like I might vomit, but otherwise I’m fine. Thank you.”

 

“You need me to pull over or anything?” Sam added from the front seat, glancing back at the pair in the rearview mirror.

 

“No, I don’t think so. We don’t have much further to go, do we?”

 

“Maybe about a half an hour at best. Gabriel knows when we’re supposed to arrive, he should be waiting for us when we get there.” Castiel nodded his thanks and returned to curling up as close to Dean as possible. He was eager to get any confrontations with his familial clan over and done with, and spend the rest of the day buried in a nest on his bed with his mate.

 

The last half hour passed far too quickly, pale buildings quickly coming into view through the trees. Castiel immediately recognized the largest building, his old home towering over the other buildings by two stories. Dean seemed to notice his increasing apprehension, pulling him into his lap and refusing to let go as they approached the main clearing of the Novak clan. The closer they got the more the crowd gathering to greet them became obvious, people crowding the main road into clearing. They moved out of the way quickly at the sight of the giant black beast of a car, and by the time they had pulled up in front of the massive house, most of the crowd had backed off to a respectable distance. Even so, Castiel still felt nervous as the car pulled to a stop. Only the sight of his brother stepping off the porch to meet them convinced him that opening the door and getting out of the car was a good idea.

 

He slowly climbed out after Dean, ignoring the people gathered around in favor of pulling his brother into a hug. It had only been a few weeks since Gabriel had left with Pamela to set everything up, but in this moment he’d never been happier to see him. No words were exchanged, instead Gabriel just led him inside and directly to the large, well-worn couch that sat in the far corner of the main room. Sam chose to stay outside in an effort to keep everyone gathered in something that resembled order.

 

“John already sent word that you’re supposed to be on bedrest, so I’ve got everything all set up here for you. Hael and Anna are upstairs, they’ll be down in a bit to say hi. I don’t know where Pamela is, but she said she’d be by later once you’ve settled in. I expect everyone outside is about ready to tear down the door to talk to you, but given everyone’s attitude lately, they’ve been politely told to fuck off unless they actually need something. Your old bedroom is still the same as you left it, but well, it’s not really set up for two people, and given that it’s upstairs, I wasn’t sure if it would really be a good idea for you to use it anyway, so I made up one of the bedrooms downstairs for you, at least until you pick which one you wanna use, because I don’t really know if you’ll want to stay in that one or move into another one or-”

 

“Gabriel, I appreciate your efforts, I really do, but you’re rambling. A simple ‘I miss you’ would have sufficed.” Castiel couldn’t help but laugh at his brother’s manic disposition. It couldn’t have been easy dealing with everyone in his absence, but Gabriel seemed to have done alright. “If you’d like, you can tell everyone that I’ll start taking visitors once I’ve had time to relax for a minute.”

 

“Who said I missed you? Someone sure thinks highly of themselves!” Gabriel winked at him as he headed back outside to address the crowd still clearly gathered outside.

 

Dean immediately busied himself grabbing blankets and some snack food while Castiel got comfortable on the old couch. The scents of the house were still familiar to him, and while many memories weren’t all that great, there were still enough good memories that he felt fairly safe and secure quickly. He closed his eyes and relaxed for the first time since they had left that morning.

 

No sooner than Dean sat down next to him, the sound of footsteps on the stairs could be heard, followed by the sight of Castiel’s sisters bounding down the stairs and across the living room to wrap their brother in a giant, suffocating hug. Castiel couldn’t help but return the gesture, one arm around each of their shoulders as he reacquainted himself with the scent of family that he never really forgot. 

 

“We missed you so much! We were terrified that we’d never see you again, especially when Michael left, but then we heard he’d been exiled, and it was because of something he did to you and we didn’t know what to think. Then Uncle Luci said you’d probably be coming back when he left, and we hoped you would, but we didn’t think you’d be coming back to lead the clan. You are, aren’t you? Does that mean you’re staying for good? Is this Dean? He’s cute!” Hael was practically vibrating with excitement while Anna stayed silent, though her smile was just as big as her sister’s.

 

“Yes, I’ll be staying for good, provided things go well. And yes, this is my mate Dean.” Dean smiled and waved at the overexcited teenager, clearly amused by her antics.

 

“Ohh, you’re pregnant! I mean, Uncle Luci said you were, but you’re already huge! When’s the baby gonna be here?”

 

“I’m hoping not until the end of July. Since it’s twins, it might be a bit earlier than that.”

 

As if on cue, Pamela appeared in the doorway, shouting a few choice obscenities over her shoulder as she came in. She wasted no time in pulling Castiel into yet another hug, shooing the twins away to go sit on one of the other couches.

 

“Castiel James Novak, you are going to put me in an early grave. Now, I know you’re just dying to meet everyone outside, but I’d like to get a quick look at you first. Not that I don’t trust Missouri’s work, I’d just like the peace of mind. Now, sit back a minute for me, will you?” Castiel shifted back at Pamela’s request, stretching his wings out to the side so he could sit more comfortably. Hael let out a gasp at the sight of the large blue appendages, a request to touch them already already on the tip of her tongue. Castiel nodded to her, stretching out the wing closest to her so she could examine it while Pamela pulled back his oversized shirt to get a better ‘look’ at him.

 

“Well, that is one of the nastiest PPAs I’ve seen in a long time. Definitely the right call on bedrest, and while I would tell you to take it easy and try to avoid stress, leading this lot is gonna be about as stress free as trying to get a bunch of toddlers to sit still and be quiet, so I’ll just leave it at trying to avoid any unnecessary stress. Now, I know Missouri said no knotting, but I’d say penetration of any kind is not gonna be a good thing, so you’ll just have to get creative.”

 

“Ew, gross! I don’t want to have to hear about that!” Hael looked thoroughly disgusted by Pamela’s last comment while Anna just looked amused. Castiel gentled buffeted her with his wing with a chuckle, pulling his shirt back down over his bruised belly as Pamela stood up.

 

“You know, it’s not gonna be long before you’re going to be pretty interested in it yourself, hon. Now run along, I still have some things I need to discuss with your brother.”

 

“What’s PPA?” Dean asked as the twins took off to run upstairs.

 

“Partial placental abruption. I’d say it happened when our good friend Crowley left that lovely bruise on him. If it weren’t for that tattoo, you’d have definitely lost the pregnancy, and you’d probably have bled out. As it is, too much stress and moving around, and even that tattoo won’t be able to stop it from happening, so when I say you need to be on bedrest, I mean it. Trying to do too much might literally kill you.” 

 

“Wait, what?” All the color had drained from Dean’s face, and Castiel was sure he didn’t look too much better himself.

 

“If you try to exert yourself too much, the placenta can detach itself completely, mark or no. If that happens, there’s a very real chance that you will bleed to death and there really isn’t much that I can do, not with what we have here. I’m going to try to get some decent medical supplies on our next run, but that’s something that needs to be discussed with the clan, which can be put off until tomorrow. You’ve had a shit week, and I’m sure today hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park, so for the rest of the day, I want you to take it easy. I’ll send everybody home and we can start prepping for introductions and figuring out who’s going to be helping you later.” Pamela stood to leave, though not before pulling Castiel into a hug. “You’ll be just fine, sweetie. Just rest, tomorrow probably isn’t going to be pleasant.”

 

***

 

When Pamela had said meeting with the heads of every family in his territory wasn’t going to be a fun experience, she’d only been under exaggerating by a bit. Castiel had been woken up far earlier than anyone had a need to be awake by his brother who insisted that he was done dealing with, in his own words, impatient pushy assholes. So, without any real chance to wake up or mentally prepare himself for seeing far more people than he wanted to see, he found himself sitting at one end of a large table suspiciously similar to the one John had in his own council room. Instead of meeting with him one at a time, like he had been hoping to do, every last alpha and beta of any importance was shoved into the room with him. Dean stood to his right while Gabriel and Sam stayed to his left, both alphas glaring daggers at anyone who dared to try to shuffle closer. The combined scent of so many alphas in an enclosed space had his usual nausea cranked up to ridiculous levels, and with so many different scents bombarding him all at once, he found himself incapable of distinguishing any particular emotions from anyone. When it looked like everyone had finally arrived, Castiel took a deep breath before addressing everyone.

 

“If everyone’s actually here and ready, I’d like to be able to start. Mostly with why everyone had to be here at once instead of meeting with me individually, because frankly this is a bit unnerving. But, you’re all here, nothing to be done about that except to move on and get it out of the way. First order of business, Gabriel and Dean are both acting as advisors. Sam will being doing the same for the duration of his stay here, but when he leaves, I will be looking for a few more people to fill in. If you’d like to discuss it after the meeting, you’re free to stick around.

 

“Second, Gabriel has informed me that we will be needing to meet with our contacts soon for a supply run, and Pamela has a list of things that we need to try to get this time. I understand that it’s not that easy to get a lot of the things she is asking for, but every effort needs to be made. I have also been made aware of a close call we had last year, so suggestions for a new drop point are more than welcome at this time.

 

“We also have the annual Gathering coming up, and while it’s usually held in May, John, Benny and Ellen were all in agreement that late April would be a much better time for it this year, especially with the recent changes in leadership.” A few disgruntled murmurs could be heard at the statement, but nobody felt the need to speak up, clearly intent on letting him finish all that he had to say. “There will also be quite a few changes to the event, considering we will be hosting it here. We have a little less than two months to prepare, so this needs to be our main focus.

 

“Lastly, I know a lot of you have reservations about an omega leading the clan. Let me make this clear once and for all. I really don’t care. If you have any genuine concerns that you feel need to be addressed, you are more than welcome to, but I will not be listening to any complaints about the fact that I don’t have a knot and you think I need to. Now, any questions?”

 

Immediately several alphas tried to talk over one another, all intent on being able to have their say first. All it took was one glare, coupled with Castiel raising his wings in as threatening a manner as possible for everyone to go quiet again. Castiel gestured to the alpha on his left to start, pleased when the rest stayed silent, waiting their turn.

 

“Exactly what changes are you planning to make to the Gathering?”

 

“Not much, just the way the opening ceremonies are conducted and how claim disputes will be settled. I should have a full list of changes and requests by the end of the week.”

 

The rest of the meeting was thankfully fairly subdued, with only a few alphas looking to try and assert their authority over him. At one point one of the alphas stood up and tried to suggest that Castiel had no need to be there, that they were clearly capable of handling things on their own if Dean or Gabriel were unwilling to do so, and that perhaps all he needed was a good knotting to remind him of his place. Castiel immediately stood, wings arched high as he worked to collect himself into something that resembled calm, despite feeling like he was ready to shred the alpha’s jugular. It seemed to be growing into a habit of his, and he made a mental note to ask Pamela about it later.

 

“If that is all that you have to contribute here, then you are free to leave. Your services are not required and your presence in this clan isn’t either. If you think to sway my opinion with any more suggestions, might I remind you that the last time an alpha pissed me off, his carcass decorated the forest floor. Probably still does. Now, if anyone else has anything to say, I’d like to request that you save it for another day. I think today has been long enough for us all. Sam? Gabriel? Would you mind escorting this alpha out?”

 

Nobody made a sound as the two bodily collected the mouthy alpha, most following silently behind the spectacle with only a nod on their way out. Only one alpha chose to stay behind, and Castiel was more than surprised when he recognized the scrawny little Harvelle from the Gathering almost a year ago.

 

“Garth? What are you doing here? I’d have thought you’d stay on with your family’s clan.” Castiel gladly accepted the alpha’s embrace, shushing Dean with a gentle flick of his wing when his mate started to growl at Garth’s close proximity.

 

“I did for a bit, but home life just got a bit boring after a while, you know? I started bouncing from one pack to another, and then kind of just stayed here after Michael was exiled. Real shitty what he did to you, man. Can’t say I’m sorry to see him gone.”

 

“I can’t say that I am either.”

 

“So about that advisor position. Is that open to anyone, or did you already have someone in mind?” The poor kid looked so hopeful Castiel knew what his answer would be before even asking Dean or Gabriel’s opinion.

 

“I didn’t have anyone in mind, and since it looks like there isn’t anyone else interested, you’re more than welcome to give it a shot. I could use all the help I can get as it is, and I know John trusts the Harvelles more than any of the others. If you’d like, we can meet tomorrow, go over everything that will be expected of you then. Today’s been too long as it is.”

 

“Yeah, of course! See you first thing tomorrow morning. Good meeting you, Dean!”

 

“Oh gods no, not first thing in the-” The door to the council room shut before Castiel could finish complaining about having to get up early to deal with someone with far more energy than he’d ever be able to muster.

 

“Welcome to the life of a pack leader, Cas. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Dean led Castiel from the room, mindful of his limp and refusing to let him walk the rest of the way by sweeping him up into his arms. Rather than complain, Castiel just yawned and dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Wake me up when you get lunch. I think I’d rather just take a nap.”

 

“Will do. Not bad for your first day. The rest of the week’s probably gonna be hell, though.”

 

“Please don’t make me think about it.”

 

***

 

True to Dean’s word, the rest of the week felt like a spectacular failure. While no one dared to pull a stunt like the first day, it became more and more obvious as the days wore on that most of the alphas were less than happy with Castiel being their leader. Even the novelty of being a true shifter wasn’t enough to convince them that he belonged anywhere above the rank of breeder, and it became clear to him just how much influence Michael had truly had over his clan. By the second week everyone seemed to have settled for the most part however, and by the time the end of March rolled around, Castiel felt like he had a pretty good handle on things. His temper only flared a few times, though Pamela assured him that feeling the need to kill offending alphas was just part and parcel of the cocktail of hormones that tended to come with pregnancy.

 

At twenty three weeks, Castiel had swollen considerably. Well over halfway through, he found himself tired and grouchy far more often than he thought should ever be normal. Reminded of his first time shifting, he clung to what good days he could get and took the rest in stride. He still saw Pamela on a weekly basis, and while everything seemed to be developing normally, he seemed to be losing weight. Of course, that was probably to be expected when half of his time was spent worrying about the day to day affairs of his pack and the other half was spent trying (and frequently failing) to keep down everything Dean fed him. Even Pamela seemed worried about it, especially as the date of the Gathering drew closer. The yearly supply run was put off until the last possible minute due to some dispute over whether some of the things listed were truly needed and how to avoid the close call from the year before, but somehow promethazine was able to be included, and while it didn’t work all the time, it worked often enough that he was finally able to gain a few pounds here and there.

 

Tensions started running high again the closer it got to the end of April. All eight clans had sent word that they were planning on attending. Fortunately, the projected turnout for the Claiming was one of the smallest on record. Each clan only had five or so omegas guaranteed to come, and only about ten or so alphas to accompany them, meaning that there would likely be less than a hundred and fifty altogether. It was a far cry from the two hundred plus that had attended Castiel’s last Gathering, and for that he was grateful. It would be much easier for him to plan around, and there was ample space for him to work with. The visitor housing had to be cleared and cleaned up, food and drink procured and set aside and a temporary stage built. On top of it, Castiel had to finish a few proposals he planned on bringing up in the meeting with the other clan leaders, and while he knew there would be a few likely to back him, it was the majority he had to convince and he couldn’t guarantee that everyone would be thrilled with his ideas.

 

Despite everything else he had to worry about, his biggest concern was still whether or not he would even be able to attend the opening and closing ceremonies of the Claiming itself. Dean was adamant that he stay home claiming that running the clan meeting and attending the Claiming would be too much for him in one day. Castiel disagreed vehemently, arguing that five minutes on a small stage was nothing compared all the times he had to get up just to pee throughout the day. Pamela was largely silent on the issue, admitting that it wouldn’t be any more harmful than his usual day to day activities, if he could keep from overdoing it in the meeting and didn’t let himself get stressed out. Eventually she agreed to let him do as he wished so long as she was allowed to monitor him every day for the duration of the Gathering. Dean wasn’t happy with the idea, but he conceded that if Pamela wasn’t too worried, he probably didn’t have a reason to be either. Even so, his alpha instincts occasionally got the better of him and had him hovering over Castiel more frequently, though Castiel found it difficult to complain about the extra attention.

 

Clans started arriving a couple of days before the Gathering was scheduled to start, most piling into the provided housing while a couple chose to camp outside. The clearing wasn’t quite as large as the Winchester’s, but without small cabins scattered everywhere it felt plenty large and accommodating. Much like his last Gathering, wood was sorted and piled into large bonfires, with extra wood stacked around the edges of the clearing. Beer and food was brought in, and some of the Novak clan even made mead for the occasion.

 

Everyone finished arriving the night before the Gathering, and Castiel was a nervous wreck. John had already been by to see him, and despite his reassurances, Castiel was worried about what the next day would bring. Since he was the host, he would be opening the meeting. It was his first chance to meet the new leaders of the clans most affected by the MacLeods, and he was hoping to make a decent first impression. He was barely able to sleep at all the night before, nerves and nausea leaving him restless and uncomfortable. Fortunately the meeting wasn’t supposed to happen until mid afternoon, so when he finally did get some sleep, it was just enough to not make him look absolutely awful by the time he had to get up. Dean dragged him unwillingly to the bathroom, forcing him into the tub while he ran hot water, and not for the first time, Castiel was eternally grateful for having running water again. He loved the Winchesters, but he did not love their ‘rough it in the wild’ attitude, and running water and electricity had been two of the biggest things he had missed about home.

 

Sufficiently soaked and scrubbed, Dean wrapped him in one towel and his wings in another, gently drying his wings while Castiel worked on drying the rest of himself off. The clothes Dean picked were simple and loose fitting, and with nothing else standing between him and speaking to the other clan leaders, Castiel led the way to the council room with Dean hot on his heels. Gabriel met them at the door with Sam, and together they walked in and took their place at the head of the table.

 

John was already seated, two alphas Castiel had met but had never quite remembered the names of on either side of him. Beside them sat Ellen, a beta and an alpha representing the Harvelles. Across the table from them sat Lucifer and a pair of alphas for the Pellegrino clan, and three alphas Castiel had never met before. Before long nine more people filed in, Benny and his two advisors for the Lafittes, Bobby and his for the Singers, and one more person Castiel hadn’t met yet.

 

“Castiel, I believe you already know everyone else, but this is Samuel Campbell of the northeastern territory and Aaron Bass of the southwest territories. For everyone else, I’m John Winchester of the northern territories, this is Bobby Singer of the southern territory, Ellen Harvelle of the Great Lakes, Lucifer Pellegrino of the southeastern territory, Benny Lafitte of the southern swamplands, and our host, Castiel Novak, also of the northern territories.” John nodded towards everyone in turn, catching Castiel’s gaze as he nodded towards him as well.

 

“Thank you, John. And thank you everyone for coming. I’ve only been here for a couple of months, so while I might be the host, I will be deferring to John’s experience in the proceedings. As such if nobody has any objections, I’d like to just touch base with everyone, get updates out of the way first before we discuss any potential changes that need to be made. 

 

“To start, the two months I have been here have been relatively quiet. Aside from the initial irritation over the change of leadership, there haven’t been any real issues. Michael left a few sparsely detailed notes prior to his removal. Nothing important, one death, old age I believe. No pregnancies or births outside of mine, and I’m fairly certain that would be news for the Winchesters, not Novaks. There was a close call on our last run several months ago, a few hunters came far too close to tracking our runners back home, which is something I’d like to discuss towards the end of the meeting.” Castiel smiled softly at his father in law when John subtly dipped his head in approval.

 

“Just about the same for the Winchester clan. No deaths, no births, one pregnancy. For anyone who hasn’t heard yet or didn’t notice, my eldest son is expecting twins with his mate Castiel later this summer. You should already be aware he is the first true shifter in centuries, and with any luck, we’ll have a few more before long. Outside of that and the recent issues with the MacLeods, things have been quiet.” A soft murmur went up at the mention of the pregnancy. Unlike his shifter status, the news of the twins had not reached past immediate family and close allies.

 

As everyone took their turn giving their brief, very similar statements, Castiel found his mind wandering. Deaths, even those due to old age were never a good thing, what with the overall population of their species dwindling. Far more shifters died yearly than were born, and the birth rate seemed to be dropping steadily, albeit slowly, with each passing generation. It didn’t seem too threatening yet, what with each generation living well past a century on average, sometimes a half century more barring illness or injury. His clan and that of his mate’s were lucky, with overall populations ranging over a thousand spread out into communities all over the territories. Despite their numbers, their numbers were largely made up of younger shifters and they rarely had to deal with the issues that older clans with more aged populations frequently did.

 

Time seemed to drag slowly as the clan leaders caught up and discussed the less important matters. Castiel found himself only half paying attention no matter how hard he tried, absently stroking a hand over the swell of his stomach. Dean caught him a few times, smiling softly at him before returning his attention to the men speaking. Despite his inability to focus on most of the conversation, he did find himself paying special attention to Aaron. The kid wasn’t much older than him, his scent giving him away as an omega. It made Castiel feel a bit better knowing that he and Lucifer weren’t the only non alpha clan leaders, bolstering confidence that he might have more support for his ideas than he thought.

 

Eventually talk rolled around to legislation and laws, the part of the meeting where current rules were discussed as well as potential new laws. As times changed and the world around them evolved, they had learned that they needed to keep up with it in order to survive and thrive. This was the part he had been waiting for, and despite the reassurances of both his mate and his mate’s father, he was still nervous about bringing up everything he had planned.

 

Instead of going first as host of the Gathering allowed, Castiel deigned to go last, figuring that since he was likely to take the most time and cause the most arguments it would be better if his proposals were the last to be discussed. To his surprise, most of the leaders had no real suggestions or ideas, most content to leave things as they were despite the fact that they were facing some real issues. John had some ideas about seeking to expand territory in some of the southern and eastern clans where human establishments were starting to creep up on the shifter communities, but nobody seemed too keen on contacting the government despite the fact that there was a treaty over a century old made to protect the shifters as a species. He hoped he might be able to change their minds, especially for what he had planned as his last proposal of the meeting.

 

Lucifer had also been informed of his ideas, and when it finally came time for Castiel to speak, he gave a subtle nod in a show of support. What few ideas had been brought up had also been rejected, either due to an unwillingness to attempt them or simply because they were seen as unnecessary. Castiel noticed Samuel seemed to be the most vocal of the lot, protesting virtually every idea they had come up with. He was sure the alpha would be the one to give him the most trouble. John had spent most of the meeting ignoring the man as much as possible, and despite the fact that Aaron sat next to him, his body language and scent screamed of someone doing their absolute best to pretend someone else didn’t exist. It wasn’t lost on him how uncomfortable everyone else felt when Samuel spoke up either, and he had the feeling that it would be less about convincing everyone to support his ideas but rather more about convincing everyone to keep from letting Samuel get his way.

 

“If there is nothing else, I think it may be time to adjourn this meeting.” Samuel was quick to speak, clearly eager to be done.

 

“Actually, I still have a few proposals to go over. Since they will take the most time, I figured it would be prudent to save them for last, as there will be much to discuss. Now, to begin with, the easiest. I would like to eliminate any and all mandatory mating ages for omegas. If for some reason you all find this to be undoable, then I would suggest extending the ages to all genders and secondary genders. The reasoning for omegas being mated by twenty is just as applicable to alphas. I would much rather see the first option go through, but I will settle for the second if that is what must be done.” Castiel glanced around the room as he spoke, grateful to see that the majority of those gathered were silent, politely waiting for him to finish.

 

“You’re joking, right? We have age restrictions for a reason!” Of course Samuel would be the one to speak up in opposition.

 

“As has been told to me for two decades now, the primary concern was rogue packs and mating disputes. I’ve had first hand experience with a rogue pack, and they are no threat. I’ve also seen more than my fair share of disputes even with the age restrictions, so that point is invalid as well. I know we like to think we are civilised creatures, but so long as an omega must be mated off by a certain age, people will find ways to use it to their advantage. I’m not the first to be sold, and so long as this archaic and outdated law is in effect, I will not be the last.”

 

“That’s no reason to eliminate a law designed to protect omegas-”

 

“From what? The biggest threat to omegas isn’t being stolen off by some vague perceived threat. It’s being prevented from having a choice in what happens in their life. Had Michael been allowed to do what he wanted, we wouldn’t be here discussing this. It’s a despicable practice that allows far too much abuse of the law. Until it’s amended or done away with, it will all continue.”

 

“I can’t help but agree with Castiel on this. I’m not the only omega in my family, and despite the fact that selling an omega is supposed to be illegal, most of them ended up being sold anyway. I can’t help but think that the only reason it’s still on the books is in an effort to keep those who would be deemed as lesser under control.” Aaron spoke softly, but with a definite air of authority. 

 

The rest of the room was a quiet buzz of agreement, though Samuel refused to be swayed, even when John spoke up in favor of eliminating the law as well.

 

“The boy is right. I saw first hand the end results of the age law. There is no benefit to be had keeping it. If we’re all in agreement here, I say we remove it.”

 

“Rogue packs are still a threat, and with birth rates dropping every generation, we can’t afford to leave them unprotected!” Samuel clearly wasn’t going to be swayed.

 

“And just how many rogue packs have you actually dealt with?” 

 

“None, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

 

“It has everything to do with this. I actually have dealt with a rogue pack. They’re not a threat. They simply don’t like dealing with bureaucracy, and if you’re any example, I can easily see why. Should a rogue pack decide to become a threat, then they should be dealt with accordingly. I will not stand by and allow a law to stand under the pretense of preventing a problem that either doesn’t exist anymore or never did in the first place.” With that Castiel flared his wings, just enough to prove how serious he was. When Samuel had nothing else to say, he relaxed back into his chair, wings drooping down with him.

 

“It’s settled then. As of today, the age restriction law has been lifted. Omegas can mate at any age, with a person of their choosing. Now, did you have anything else Castiel?” John looked to him questioningly. Castiel had mentioned his last idea in passing, but had never discussed it with anyone other than Dean and Garth in any length.

 

“I do, though I’m not sure how well it will be received. I worked most of the details with my advisors, but even so, it would be tricky to pull off.” Castiel took a calming breath before continuing. “I’d like to open the borders and work on relations with the humans. I’ve read the treaty with their government many times, and it happens to contain a clause protecting us as a native species. If we were to approach them and ask for the protection the treaty promises, I think we could eliminate the threat of hunters and provide some of the worse off communities with much needed supplies and amenities.”

 

The room was silent as Castiel’s request sank in. Even Samuel was silent, though from what he could scent, the alpha’s silence was one of shock rather than disdain. It was understandable, as shifters were all taught from a young age to fear and avoid humans at all costs. Countless thousands of their kind had been killed at the hands of hunters who blamed shifters for all manner of things.

 

“That’s...that’s definitely ambitious. How exactly do you propose we do it?” Benny spoke up, watching Castiel intently.

 

“I’d rather wait until the end of this year, just to make sure we’re fully prepared, but I would like to arrange a meeting with government officials to work out exactly how we’ll expose our existence and protect ourselves at the same time. I imagine it will take a few years before we see anything we could call progress, but if we are successful, I think we could drastically improve our way of life and eliminate a lot of concern over our safety at the same time.”

 

“I don’t see why we couldn’t at least attempt it. Having open relations with the human populations surrounding our territories could be a very beneficial thing.” Lucifer spoke up, nodding to Castiel in support. “I suggest we meet again in a few months to work on a plan, make sure we’re all on the same page to move forward.

 

When everyone agreed with Lucifer without complaint or argument, Castiel sat speechless. He hadn’t anticipated that either of his ideas would be taken seriously, let alone agreed upon and passed without more than a slight hiccup. A date to reconvene was agreed upon, late in November, and the meeting was adjourned. All that remained of the day was the opening ceremonies for the weeklong Claiming, and provided Dean didn’t hover for the duration, that wouldn’t be longer than five or ten minutes. After that, he would be free to curl up on the couch with his mate and celebrate his first successful Gathering.

 

Castiel was almost surprised to see Pamela waiting for him in the living room as he and Dean left the meeting. Then again, he had agreed to let her monitor him every step of the way through the Gathering week, and he knew the only reason she wasn’t in the meeting was because she wasn’t allowed. So, instead of complaining about everyone babying him like he very much wanted to do, he sat down on the couch and let her do as she wanted, which mostly just consisted of poking and prodding at him until she was satisfied that he wasn’t stressing himself out more than necessary and that he was perfectly fine to go stand on a stage for five minutes and address the crowd that was starting to gather there.

 

Dean only gave a half hearted protest as the pair walked outside and down the road to where the makeshift stage had been erected on the edge of the largest clearing. A dozen fires had already been lit and a sizeable number of people had already gathered around the stage. The final tally had fallen right around a hundred and thirty shifters from across the country, a surprisingly even number of alphas and omegas looking to participate this year.

 

A hush fell over the crowd as Castiel climbed the short steps to the center of the stage, all eyes on him as he turned to address them, Dean by his side the whole time. He glanced across the sea of people for a moment, gathering courage before he began to speak.

 

“I’d like to thank everyone for making the journey to our little corner of the world this year. Now, from what I’ve been told, most of you have participated before. For those of you who have, we’re doing things a little different this year. Normally this is the point in time where I’d be asking every omega present to line up and start parading across the stage. We’re not doing that this year. Instead, I’m just laying down some ground rules and letting you guys have at it.

 

“First rule, for those who don’t already know, if someone says no, they mean no. There’s a lot of you here, don’t get hung up on one person. They can say no same as you can. This is about finding your lifetime mate, not getting a quick fuck in and moving on. Not that I care if that’s all you do, but that’s not what this is all about and I will not hesitate to come down on the ass of whoever thinks they can force someone into doing something they don’t want. Second, if you find the person you want to claim and they agree, please come find my brother Gabriel to be marked in the register. I don’t care when, just do it before the end of the week.

 

“Lastly, for those omegas who are here because they’re twenty or almost twenty and think this is their last chance to pick their own mate, it’s not. Not anymore. You can ask me about it later, but as of now, age restrictions have been removed. You’re free to choose who you want, when you want. Enjoy it. I don’t think I have anything else, so with that being said and done, go have fun. You’ve got a solid week to get to know everyone starting now.”

 

A loud cheer rang across the clearing as Castiel finished and stepped down off the stage, Dean a constant presence at his side.

 

“Not too shabby for your first Gathering on the other side of the fence.” Dean smiled at him as he scooped Castiel into a bridal carry, hauling him effortlessly back down the road to the main house.

 

“It’s not like it was hard. Just convince everyone important to try something completely different and out of their comfort zones. Easy stuff. Now come on, I need a nap before I even think about anything else.”

 

***

 

The Gathering itself was a relative success despite Pamela pushing Castiel to actually follow the bedrest rule the entire rest of the week. Dean gave the closing speech for him despite any protests Castiel had. The stress had finally gotten to him once he didn’t have as much to focus on and his nausea had come back full force. Dean hovered more than ever before, bringing him food, water and any relevant issues that he might need to address. Despite his mate’s constant pressure to push everything off onto him, Gabriel and Garth, Castiel refused to shirk his responsibilities. He still had months before he was due, and he didn’t think it would be all that fair to take the position of leader of his clan and then immediately dump everything off onto someone else.

 

Spring quickly passed into summer, and with it came the realization that Castiel only had a few months left before his due date. This was never more obvious than when they had a small scare around the middle of June. Castiel had woken up to blood staining the sheets and mild cramps rolling through his abdomen. It had turned out to be nothing serious then, but in the last week of July, a full six weeks before he was actually due, it went from false alarm to the real thing quickly.

 

He had been suffering from Braxton Hicks off and on the entire week prior, so when he felt them this time, he didn’t think much of it. They didn’t feel regular, and though they felt stronger than normal, it didn’t seem much different from the other times. It wasn’t until his water broke later in the evening that they had evened out and grown in strength all day, moving from Braxton Hicks straight into contractions smoothly enough that he hadn’t noticed. Pamela showed up not a half an hour later, confirming that he was in the early stages of labor, and despite the early date, she didn’t anticipate any complications. Even so, she insisted on a dose of steroids as a precaution and okayed him to do whatever he needed to feel comfortable. She had warned him that early labor could take hours, especially with the first pregnancy, and that he was in for a long night regardless.

 

He spent the better part of an hour pacing the bedroom, Dean practically glued to his side. He had to pause with every contraction, a few strong enough to force him to lean against either the wall or his mate until they passed. When he’d finally had enough of pacing ruts into the floor, Dean all but forced him into bed, which had been fitted with plastic sheets Pamela had dug up from what seemed to be thin air. He was stripped bare and buried under what felt like a dozen blankets as Dean crawled into it with him, pulling Castiel to his chest and rubbing his back every time a contraction had him grunting or hissing through his teeth.

 

By midnight he was done, a light sheen of sweat covering him as he struggled just to breathe through the contractions that had only gained strength as the night wore on. Pamela had been in twice so far in between gathering the supplies she had managed to scrape together with a nervous little beta named Hannah. She hadn’t seemed concerned any time she had checked on him, so Castiel tried not to worry too much. It was rather difficult though, especially when every contraction was a few minutes apart and felt like they were trying to rip him in half.

 

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise and was blinding Castiel through the open window that it seemed any progress had been made. Pamela came in acting entirely too cheerful, bringing with her what looked like dozens of different tools and medications on a small rolling cart. After a short, fairly excruciating exam, she declared him fully dilated and ready to push whenever he felt like he needed to. She instructed Dean to move behind him to give him something to brace against, and Dean wasted no time stroking through the soft feathers near his bare back in an effort to soothe him, whispering praise and reassurance every time he tensed up with a contraction. The sheets and blankets were pulled back while Pamela got comfortable at the foot of the bed, right between his legs.

 

He didn’t feel too different for the next few contractions, but it didn’t feel like more than a few minutes before he felt an odd pressure and an almost overwhelming urge to push. He pressed back into Dean, wings flaring out to either side as he bore down as hard as he could. He couldn’t help the small cry at the new pain, the feeling of his insides shifting and stretching almost too much for him to handle. When the contraction finally subsided, he collapsed back against Dean, panting hard and muttering colorfully under his breath. Pamela rubbed his knee comfortingly, reminding him to breathe every time his breath hitched.

 

The next contraction was even worse, the burning pain enough to make him realize why everyone was reminding him to breathe, as he didn’t even realize he had stopped until he heard Pamela all but yelling at him to stop holding his breath. He sucked air with a gasp, shaking with the effort of trying to both breathe and trying to push against the pressure that felt like it was trying to rip him to shreds.

 

“Gimme a couple more like that and you’ll be done with round one, Cassie. You’re doing fine.”

 

“Not entirely sure I agree with you there. If this is what fine feels like, then I really really don’t want to be fine.”

 

“Okay, let me rephrase. Keep it up and you’ll be fine a lot faster.”

 

As it turned out Pamela was right. The next contraction felt like he was literally dying, and the one after that wasn’t much better, but finally he felt the pressure release and something large and slick sliding out between his legs. The relief was immense enough that he fell back against Dean, wings drooping to the floor in utter exhaustion. A soft, weak cry had him struggling to sit up again however, at least until Pamela pushed him back down, the biting scent of panic starting to curl from her.

 

“Hannah, I need the lidocaine, the hard mix and the scalpel, and I need them now. Dean, I need you down here.”

 

“Why, what’s wrong? What happened? Everything’s alright, isn’t it?” Dean crawled out from behind Castiel as quickly as possible, taking the first child when Hannah handed them to him.

 

“Your son is just fine, but when he came out, he ripped the placenta. Much as I hate to, you need a cesarean, and you need it now. I had hoped to be better prepared for this, but my contact couldn’t get everything, so we’re going to have to make do. I’m so sorry Castiel, this isn’t going to be pleasant.” Pamela looked grim as she explained what had happened. “Dean, do me a favor, stick your head out and tell Gabriel to get in here. I know he’s hovering, and right now I need someone to watch your son while we work. I need everyone’s help here.”

 

All the blood seemed to have drained from Dean’s face as he quickly turned to open the door, beckoning Gabriel inside while he clutched his son to his chest. Castiel still wasn’t quite coherent enough to realize what was about to happen, but the feeling of a needle piercing his skin in a straight line from pelvis to belly button seemed to sink the message home. He froze in fear, watching with an increasing sense of panic as Hannah approached his side with a small syringe filled with a clear liquid.

 

“Castiel, I need you to listen to me, okay? You and the little one will both be just fine, but only if you stay calm for me and do as I say. Now, we gave you some lidocaine, that should stop you from feeling the worst of it, but that was the strongest thing I could get ahold of, so this is still going to hurt like hell. Hannah is giving you a little cocktail I mixed up that should help keep you calm, but only if you let it. If you struggle or panic, there is a very real chance that you will bleed to death. Right now the only thing stopping that from happening is the fact that the placenta landed right across your cervix. Dean, I need you back where you were. Your job is to hold him as still as you can and do your damnedest to keep him calm. Hannah, you’re up. As fast as you can, too long and it won’t matter what we do.”

 

Everything seemed to happen slowly, at least as far as Castiel could tell. Dean climbed right back behind him, pinning his arms and wings with his legs and bending in half over him. With his senses overwhelmed by his mate and the drug cocktail kicking in quickly, Castiel began to feel like he was floating. At least until he felt the first incision. The lidocaine took the bite of pain away, but the sensation of his skin being cut was entirely too much. He flung his head back into Dean, barely aware that the whimpering sounds were coming from him. He desperately clung to anything he could in an effort to remind himself that he wasn’t back in the mine, but the feel of blood dripping down his sides was quickly sending him into a full panic. His chest felt too tight, and he struggled to breathe even as Dean tried desperately to keep his attention. The stench of blood and panic overwhelmed his senses, and he could feel himself starting to shake as he fought to keep from moving.

 

He couldn’t help but jerk when he felt his skin being pushed aside, a wave of nausea running through him as he turned to bury his face in Dean’s thigh. When he felt the blade dig deeper, past his skin, he bit back a scream, all but sobbing into Dean’s leg. He was barely able to keep a hold on reality, images of Crowley and his silver tipped knives dancing in his blurry, tear streaked vision. Vaguely he was aware of a lot of raised voices, though he couldn’t make anything out over the sound of his own panicked breathing.

 

He flinched hard when Pamela grabbed his chin to force him to look at her, and for a few moments, all he could see was Rowena standing over him. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut, pleading with every breath for her to stop.

 

After that he started to drift in a haze of pain and fear, faces and voices coming into focus only to morph into that of his former captors, sending him into a panic all over again. He only caught bits of sentences, but nothing made sense and everything was getting harder to focus on.

 

“...gonna need the epinephrin, he’s starting to….”

 

“...can’t do that, it’ll kill him! I’m almost…”

 

“...it won’t matter, he’s crashing. Gabriel, I need you to grab that hose…”

 

“...pulse is dropping too fast, gimme the damn needle…”

 

“...keep that shit up Dean, and I will force you to….”

 

Slowly everything faded into a quiet blur, nothing but shapes and sensations and white noise. The bite of a needle in his arm barely registered, but not long after that everything started to come into focus again. His heart was racing, pounding against his ribcage as he sucked in a raspy breath. He started to glance down to where it felt like someone was digging through his innards until someone caught his face and forced him to look at them.

 

Pamela’s face was a blur, and he tried to blink back tears that he knew were still falling. 

 

“Hey, you with me finally?” She spoke softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb in an effort to calm him down. “Had us scared there for a minute. Soon as Hannah is done stitching you up, you can meet your two new sons. You’re gonna be stuck to Gabriel for a little bit though, you lost a lot of blood and right now he’s the only thing keeping you alive. Just don’t pull on the IV, I was only able to get the one.”

 

Castiel said nothing, instead rolling his head back weakly to look at his mate, who seemed to be crying almost as hard as he was. 

 

“Cas, please. Please don’t ever scare me like that again. I almost lost you. I...I can’t. Please don’t leave me here by myself. I can’t do this without you.”

 

“Dean…” Castiel felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over him at Dean’s whispered confession, and he couldn’t help but struggle to unpin his arms so he could pull Dean down into a much needed embrace. He was so wrapped up in comforting and seeking comfort from his alpha that he didn’t even notice when Hannah finished stitching. He did notice when he heard twin cries coming from his left. Instinct had him fighting to sit up, yelping when he pulled on the fresh stitches and falling back against Dean. Dean quickly moved to help him sit up and lean back against him, pressing a quick kiss against the claiming mark on Castiel’s neck before turning to Pamela and nodding. She handed one of the twins over carefully, and Castiel found himself with an armful of squirming infant. He had a mop of soft blond hair and bright blue eyes, and Castiel immediately fell in love with the tiny little creature. A quick glance showed Gabriel holding his other child, his hair much darker but his eyes just as vibrant as his brother’s.

 

“You got yourself a little wolf pup with that one.” Pamela nodded to the one Castiel was holding, carefully collecting the other from Gabriel before moving to sit beside him. “This one here took after you. We won’t know for sure just how much they take after you, not until they’re much older. But, despite being several weeks early, they’re both healthy and they’re both probably pretty hungry. I’d only try feeding one at a time though, at least while you still have that needle in your arm.”

 

Almost on cue, the baby Castiel was still staring at in awe started scrunching his nose and whimpering, turning his head in an effort to find something to latch on to. Castiel carefully lifted him and settled him against his chest, leaning further back into Dean as his son snuffled around until he found what he was looking for and latched on immediately, sucking voraciously and without hesitation. Castiel could feel Dean watching over his shoulder, and the thought brought a soft smile to his face. They had done it. Despite the absolute hell he had gone through to bring them into this world, he’d made it and so had his boys.

 

By the time the twins had been fed, wrapped and settled against their parents to sleep, Pamela and Hannah had managed to clean the room, strip the bed and the protective covering, replacing them with fresh sheets and finally dragging in a pair of bassinets. She disconnected the IV and left a small bottle of painkiller on the table beside the bed, reminding him to only use it if it was absolutely necessary. She left them alone after that, watching the four of them for a second from the door before shutting it behind her quietly.

 

***

 

It took weeks to settle on a name for the boys, as neither Castiel nor Dean had given it much thought beforehand. Eventually they settled on Sebastien and Derek, and the two grew faster than their parents could keep up. Gabriel was frequently employed as a babysitter, especially once Castiel had healed enough to attempt shifting again. It was another month before he succeeded though, and his first day without wings he promptly rolled and rubbed his back against the sheets in their bed just to remind himself that things were getting back to normal. His first heat after pregnancy was vicious, almost two weeks of feverish need that he definitely hadn’t missed. Pamela warned him against getting pregnant again any time that season, and made up the strongest birth control she possibly could, threatening Dean’s manhood if he mixed them up again.

 

Fall came far too quickly, and with it came preparations for the planned meeting with the United States government. A few leaders still had some reservations about the whole idea, but as their plan came together, even they agreed that it was doable. The request was sent around the end of October, and when they finally got a response, a date was set for the end of November.

 

By the time the date came around, Castiel was exhausted. Gabriel had left with Sam to return to the Winchester clan, and while Hael and Anna were more than willing to step up and help their brother with the twins, trying to balance his family and his clan’s needs was starting to wear on him. He was dragged from a nap with his boys by one extremely worried and anxious Garth.

 

“Hey Cas? Sorry to bother you, but it’s kind of important. They weren’t due for another week or so, but the men from the government are here, and they want to meet with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, any medical knowledge I have is farm based. As such, I can guarantee little to none of this is accurate.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary and explanations page will be made fairly soon.


End file.
